


Hello World

by Steangine



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: (Almost) in public sex, Blood, Bottom Dante (Devil May Cry), Crack, Cunnilingus, Dildo Yamato, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Sex, Incest, Kink, Knotting, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Semi-Public Sex, Shopping, Shower Sex, Sibling Incest, Tentacles, Teratophilia, Threesome, Tickling, Titjob, Twincest, Under-Desk cunnilingus and fingering, Vaginal Fingering, Waking up with a blowjob, blowjob, cuntboy Dante, lots of kinks listed as they appear, riding sex, toilet sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 101,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steangine/pseuds/Steangine
Summary: Dante came back at the Devil May Cry one lazy afternoon.And he started building a new life with his brother.[VerDan - set after DMC 5]
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 192
Kudos: 410





	1. Welcome back

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Hello World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018277) by [Kori_is_DEAD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kori_is_DEAD/pseuds/Kori_is_DEAD)
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Hello world 你好世界](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291787) by [youmoyoumo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmoyoumo/pseuds/youmoyoumo)



> It may seem a serious angsty fic at first, but there's a sudden deep jump into humour and fluff.

Dante came back at the Devil May Cry one lazy afternoon.

The clock was pointing at two, even if it was almost five, and Morrison was sitting on the sofa enjoying the quiet silence, a book, and a glass of whiskey. _His whiskey_ , Dante noticed. Then he noticed that something into his office wasn’t as usual. His magazines were gone, together with the favourite pages he carefully hung on the wall, the flying papers scattered on the floor disappeared and the dust was pulverized.

He looked at the empty lonely corner of his office next to the desk.

“Where’s my plant?” In his voice there was the resignation of an obvious reply.

Morrison didn’t look surprised, he didn’t even act as if Dante had been missing for almost six months without a single trace left but a document which seemed like a last will. He put the glass down but kept the book open.

“Six months and that’s all you say?” He faked a sigh. “I told Lady I was in charge of it. She did her best though.”

“To kill it?”

With a snicker, Morrison nodded. “Of course.”

“Is that my whiskey you’re drinking?”

“Not yours anymore. Bought some new bottles since when you went on prolonged summer vacation.”

“Summer is long gone now.” Dante finally took few steps inside his renewed office, and his eyes lingered on some bullet casings (Lady) and lipsticks (Trish) put on the opposite sides of the desk. “My balls are freezing.”

Morrison nodded. “Not a winter outfit. Weren’t those the clothes I last saw you into?”

“Where I spent the last months, frenzy shopping wasn’t an option.”

“I hope you took a shower.” Silence. “From time to time.”

Dante shrugged and put both hands on his hips. “This feels like when my mom came into my room to clean. The same but not the same.”

“It’s a more dignified place now.” Morrison chuckled at Dante’s frown. “Lady Patty’s words, not mine.” He stood up with a crackled sigh which signs how his jointures started being worn down by age. The bookmark between the pages was a very familiar document. “Here it is.” Morrison took and handed it to Dante. “Your office back to you. Lady and Trish were ready to fight the ownership, if you hadn’t seen a long way.”

“Figures.” Dante had a hunch that could happen, so he was happy he decided to put everything in Morrison’s care. “How was running the place without me?”

“Very awful. I thought the girls would be better than you in dealing with jobs and bills, but…” He shook his head. “I guess it’s a common trait among devil hunters.”

Dante chuckled. “Told you. But people tend not listen to me. I wonder why.”

“Yeah, wonder why…” Morrison looked amused. “By the way, there’s a new job. The girls and the kid, Nero, are too busy to take it over so–”

Dante interrupted him. “You don’t even give me time to get used again. I’ve just come back from a looong holiday, you know?”

Morrison patted a hand twice on his shoulder. “Then you better get in shape fast.” He pointed at a folder on the desk. “All the information is there. You can take the whole night to rest.”

“How merciful of you.”

“As I told the ladies, the rent ain’t paying itself.” When Morrison took out a handkerchief from the pocket of the jacket and wiped the very hand he touched Dante’s coat with, Dante let out a chuckle. “And take a shower. A friendly advice.”

Morrison left without questioning him. Dante knew he would probably like to know about his whereabouts and activities of the past six months (and there were other two or three people who probably wouldn’t be so patient and could rip an answer out of his throat with bullets and blades), but he decided not to ask. Working with Morrison was comfortable, he always managed to find the right job at the right time and never went too deep in bothering Dante with personal questions. However, Dante knew that he owed him more than one explanation, at least now, since Morrison, for how he can be one of the sharpest and cleverest people he knew, doesn’t have all the basic pieces of knowledge to depict even a vague picture of the whole situation.

Dante sighed, both hands on his hips while he looked around. There was the shape of Devil May Cry, but the touch of other people. Had he known, he would have come back a bit sooner.

The door creaked behind him, and he didn’t even turn around, too busy contemplating the loss of his presence in the office – which consisted in demonic weapons hung around (where did they put them? Sold? To whom? What price?) and a general disorder (that smelt like Patty). Well, his plant as well, but she died.

“Aren’t you cold?” Dante imagined Vergil stopping on the doorstep, his nose up in the air to examine the place which belonged to his brother. And his fantasy wasn’t disappointed: he glanced at him and Vergil is there, the hand on Yamato’s hilt as his eyes carefully inspected every piece of what was going to be his new home – for a while? Forever? Heck if Dante knew.

Vergil ended the trail on Dante. “I expected this place to be less clean.” He didn’t even try to sugarcoat his blunt verdict. “But I guess it wouldn’t take you much to turn it into a dump, if someone doesn’t keep an eye on you.”

“Are you offering yourself for the cleaning?”

The click of his tongue was enough of an answer. Vergil walked around, the light thump of his boots on the wooden floor betrayed his path. Dante was sure he heard a “Tacky.”, but couldn’t tell if that was referring to the desk or the frame (without his weapons, the empty space caused a little thud in his chest).

“Well…” Dante got closer to the place where his plant, one of the few things he managed to properly take care of, used to stand. “…I guess Morrison isn’t wrong about a shower.” He smelt his right hand: blood, metal and gunpowder. “I’m first.”

Two simple words and Vergil lost any interest in contemplating the place he would share with his brother. “No, I am first.” He declared.

“Why that?”

“I am the older brother.”

“And I am the landlord.”

“As the landlord, it is common grace giving way to your guests.”

“You’re not a guest.” Dante snorted. “You’re my brother and you better move your ass to pay your share of bills.” He climbed the stairs, Vergil tailing him.

“For the little I grasped from your conversation…” Vergil got ahead him and open the doors. “…I imagine it wouldn’t take me much work to gain more money than you.”

The bathroom was comfortable enough for one person, he noticed. A bit cramped for two, and small for fighting on the doorstep being a must to win the entrance. He followed Dante, who was already taking his coat off. Vergil roughly folded his and puts it on his brother’s, thrown merciless in the laundry basket.

“You lack some years of experience to hold a candle against me.”

Dante tossed his henley at Vergil and laughed at how he ducked it, not hiding a hint of disgust on his face. Yes, Dante’s clothes were the dirtiest they’ve ever been, but Vergil didn’t exactly smell like country flowers. Both wandered in Hell, stalked the same places, ate the same food (that, Dante wanted to erase from his memories as soon as possible) and splashed themselves in the same demon blood and excretions. Water wasn’t a common occurrence in Hell and neither that tasty. Dante turned the tap of the sink and gobbled as much fresh water as possible in few gulps before Vergil nudged him aside to drink himself.

“Hey!”

Vergil cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. “Should I remind you I am up one?”

“What?” The slightly high-pitched tone coming from Dante, amused Vergil to a smile. Dante took off one boot and used it to point at him. “Last time we counted, we were even.”

“I did a little math while we fought demons. I killed more.”

“Oh sure, because your math is better than mine.”

“It has always been.”

They left their clothes scattered on the floor and pushed each other in a quick fight to declare who was the first entering the shower. Dante won, but Vergil was right behind him and both were inside the cramped tub.

“You really wash yourself with water this hot? No wonder you’re broke.”

“Don’t you dare.” Dante grabbed Vergil’s wrist before he could regulate the temperature. “My house, my rules. And I was here first.”

“What a well-mannered landlord, brother.”

It probably would have taken less time for both to scrub the hellish dirt away from them if they hadn’t argued on any single thing (“Don’t use all that balm!” “Dante, you’re the little brother, wash my back.” “This water is cold!” “Don’t you even dare!”), and the floor wouldn’t need a rug to dry all the water they scattered while arguing – when Dante started the squirt fight, he knew what consequences it would bring.

Dante decided the bathroom was a problem for the future himself, because the present himself was busy sharing the hairdryer with his asshole brother and resisting to the waves of sleep threatening to win him over.

The bed was fit for one person, not so comfortable for two, but Vergil wasn’t the guest who fakes the desire of being the one using the sofa, and Dante absolutely didn’t want to sleep on it knowing his brother was having a good sleep into his sheets. Someone (probably Patty), washed the sheets and duvet, everything smelt fresh and clean.

Maybe that was why Dante fell asleep almost as he closed his eyes. Or maybe because, into that cramped bed, he felt the warmth of Vergil’s back pressed against his.

***

Dante woke up because he heard a scream.

The time it took him to recognize the scared voice raising from the floor below, he was already standing on his feet and dashing downstairs even if clouded by the daze of the sleep. All the pieces came back at him so fast that he couldn’t believe he was again in the human world, with his brother, who was peacefully drinking coffee –the scent was so strong–, unperturbed by Patty’s long high-pitched shriek.

“Dante!” She run next to him and pointed at Vergil, who was clearly ignoring both in favor of a careful inspection of the juke box. “There’s a stranger in the office!”

Patty quickly explained the situation as if Dante didn’t have eyes to see.

“He’s my dumb twin.”

Dante bypassed the shocked stare Patty gave him and wobbled straight in the kitchenette. Everything neat and clean, there were jars with biscuits and many different teas Dante had never seen.

“What do you mean _twin_?! Dante!”

Patty stomped after him, standing between him and the way back to the office like a severe guardian of some door from hell, back straight and both hands crossed. She cut her hair to the shoulders.

“Answer me! You stayed away for months, you didn’t come to my birthday!” She allowed herself to lose a bit more of temper on the last word. “I haven’t even seen my birthday present, you know? And then you come back and don’t tell anyone?!”

“Hey, I came back yesterday.” Dante chuckles opening the fridge and his mouth waters for all the things inside. “You took care of the kitchen, didn’t you?”

“I took care of everything!” Her voice was slightly softer. “Trish and Lady aren’t at your level, but they are messy as well.”

“Figures… thank you, Patty.”

Dante doesn’t dodge the jump-hug Patty tackles him with, throwing both her arms around his waist and pressing her face on his chest.

“Stupid Dante. You missed my eighteenth birthday…”

“I know, I know.”

She raised her head, the round reddish cheeks puffed in a pout. “Morrison told me you didn’t want to come.”

“What? Hey, I wanted to come, but some big thing came up!” Dante gently shook her off him and took the milk bottle to pour some into a mug, then grabbed a pack of biscuits. “It’s my brother’s fault.”

Vergil apparently wasn’t ignoring them, because he replied immediately. “Do not put me into your personal affairs, brother.”

“Well, tell me it’s not true, mister green thumb.”

Dante was aiming for the chair, but Vergil was occupying his throne behind the desk. It seemed like the juke box wasn’t so interesting as he believed, because he was now leafing through the newspaper – Dante wondered since when he received the newspaper at home, if Vergil didn’t get out to buy one; but with what money? And did he buy or steal it? Dante realized quickly he didn’t mind.

“Thanks.” As Dante was close enough, Vergil snatched the biscuits from him, put the package on the desk and started eating them.

“You want something more, your majesty?”

Vergil pinches between thumb and index the hem of the sweater he is wearing. “Better clothes, your tastes are horrible.”

Dante looked like he was about to snarl back something, but he ended up only waving a hand at Vergil as if saying _whatever_ and went sitting on the sofa. Patty followed him, without taking her eyes off Vergil. Dante couldn’t tell if she liked him or not, but it was sure she didn’t like his attitude, because, once Vergil had his biscuits, he went back to ignore both of them and focused on the daily news.

Patty cleared her throat. “I am Patty Rowell. Dante’s partner in business.”

“Since when?”

“Shut up Dante!” She shook her head a bit to gain again some composure. “I was saying, I am his partner in business. He told me you are his brother.”

“I was there as well when he told you.”

Patty’s shock grew of another inch, and Dante was sure their relationship would be forever stormy.

Two pairs of eyes on him and a thick silence weren’t enough to move Vergil from his apparent state of self-isolation. When Patty was about to open her mouth in another attempt of gaining his attention –raising her voice–, Vergil talked again, even if his eyes were glued to the page. “I haven’t heard the _nice to meet you_ , or is it outdated now?”

Patty snorted. “Humpf. I’m not sure it’s nice to meet you.” She sounded surly. “You surely are Dante’s brother: you both lack manners!”

“Hey, don’t compare me to him!”

They talked at the same time, Vergil even glanced at her for a brief moment, and Patty was taken aback. Their features were similar, but not that much to think they could be twins, yet, that look had something familiar, and she couldn’t think anymore Dante was trying to mock her.

“You’ve never told me you have a brother.” Patty stated it without any grudge. “For how long he is staying here?”

That was a nice and interesting question without a solid answer. Were they a family? Well, they were, but were they going to live together like two old lonely men? Dante didn’t think about it when they were in Hell. Actually, he didn’t think about anything else which wasn’t the inebriating tickle of a good fight with his brother and the bother of demons constantly aiming at their necks. Those six months flew in thin dust, and now they were facing the harsh concrete wall of reality.

“Who knows?” Dante shrugged, and that was the only answer Patty received.

She felt something was odd, so she opted for a complete turn of the conversation. “I want something for my birthday. I’m an adult now, and I expect a fabulous present, Dante!”

Dante sighed. “Don’t you have school?”

“It’s Sunday! I came here to clean a bit.”

“It’s clean already.”

Patty stood up and patted twice the back of her pink frilly dress. “I expected it to be messier. Maybe Morrison helped.” She glanced at Vergil, but since he wasn’t paying attention to her, she frowned and looked aside outraged. “My birthday present, Dante. I give you one week!”

“Okay, one week.”

On the doorstep, she turned again. “Do not forget!” And before closing the door, she indulged a bit. “Welcome back.” In a whisper, she was gone.

Dante finished his milk, Vergil his coffee. As Dante got closer to take a biscuit, he glanced at the newspaper: his brother was reading the town news section.

“Are you going to stay here?” He asked with a hand sunk into the package.

Vergil raised his head. “I fail to follow your reasoning.”

“Well, you know…” Dante took a biscuit out and gestured it in the air. “…do you want to stay here forever? Or do you want to drop by Nero’s place? He’s your son after all.”

“I suppose Nero has his life. From the little you told me, he’s grown without you around, to his luck.” At those words, Dante shook his head. “Do you want me to find myself a place, Dante?”

The time Dante took to find the right words and the right answer was slightly longer than he wanted to. He wasn’t sure, but he believed he caught a nervous twitch in Vergil’s features.

“It depends on you, Vergil.” He spells his name slower on purpose. “I mean, if you’re going to do your part to pay the rent and all the expenses, I could think about adding another bed.”

If there was any tension in Vergil, it disappeared, or he hid it so well that Dante couldn’t detect it. His smile was soft and amused.

“Why wasting money on another bed, when you can sleep on the sofa?”

“Me? Hey, I put the house, you can put some sense of adaptation!”

“I can put a good management of money. I hear you lack in that skill.”

“Hey hey, you should put your poor sword skills as well.”

“I should remind you I am up one.”

“Come on, Vergil, you can’t count! I am–” Whatever Dante was, the ring of the telephone cut him, and Vergil couldn’t know. Dante took the receiver and put it close to his right ear, but kept glaring at his brother. “Devil May Cry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One minute of silence for the poor plant.


	2. Take me to Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of cats, Christmas and churches.

Dante didn’t expect everything between him and Vergil to go back as before. Mostly because their before was sprinkled in endless fights and misunderstandings and, the more he went back with his memories, the more his frustration grew, because all he could remember was crossing swords (in wood or metal) with his brother just to catch his attention. An attention Dante had never fully received, and that haunted him in the vivid memory of Vergil falling into the darkness because he choose hell over him.

Actually, he didn’t know what to expect. His brother was back after years Dante had believed he killed him with his own hands because he didn’t recognize him under the corruption Mundus bestowed on him – and the nightmares and guilt chased him even during daytime, when he was wide awake. Now what? Never in his life he had thought that one day he would accept a minor job from a client without the password because his brother (who wasn’t dead) decided he couldn’t be so picky if he was aiming for a qualitative leap for his activity.

Dante wasn’t aiming for a qualitative leap: what he had done until the moment, the way he handled the rare cases he decided to take in (in other words, only demon-related jobs) was enough to lead his pretty much solitary and almost regular life – with some spicy events, courtesy of some demons slightly stronger than the dull average. But now he realized he wasn’t alone anymore, and that implied walking along the lively streets of the town to look for a chubby cat of a wealthy rich lady who promised Dante to shower them in money if he could find him.

What Dante couldn’t understand was how Vergil managed to grasp the content of the conversation and steal the telephone from his hand before he could close the call.

“There are tens of cats in this neighborhood, and Mr Fluffle could be anywhere splashed under the tires of a truck.” Dante had not enough patience to involve himself in lost-and-found activities. “How do you find a cat?”

“I have no clue, brother.” Vergil spelt with calm, weighing every single word. “I haven’t been around here much in the last years, you are the expert.”

That hit Dante harder than any demon could ever do. He hid that behind a fake chuckle.

“I wouldn’t rely on me.”

“That goes without saying.” Vergil turned right. “Let’s go there.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“ _My_ instinct is honed.”

“You made us get lost in Hell twice, bro. Not the best experience I’ve ever made.” And he had spent more time than him there. But Dante didn’t say it.

They didn’t have much to do, except wandering around and hoping a chubby cat would appear in front of them; getting actually lost there wasn’t an option, because that was Dante’s town and he knew it almost better than his own shop. Dante replied only because it was so natural bickering with Vergil that he didn’t even think about it.

“Found it?”

Dante asked when Vergil slowed his pace down and glanced at a window shop. Nothing unusual, just a bunch of different sweets used to lure children and their mothers – but with the bonus of cheesy Christmas decorations. Then Dante remembered that it had been years since the last time Vergil had seen an actual sweet, and the fashion changed with time.

“That one is good.” Even if Dante pointed at one, they walked past it, and Vergil didn’t understand. He ignored the comment and looked in front of him.

“What sweets did you like again? I don’t remember.”

Dante expected a sharp comment, but all he obtained was a calm “I don’t either.” So, he thought that the best solution, the one coming not only from the bottom of his stomach but also from the bottom of his half-demon heart was saying _“Then we should buy one per type. This way you’ll remember what you like.”_ ; but that idea came out in the following words.

“Well, you never remember what’s important. Like whose toys are who.”

“I remembered, since mine had my name on it.”

“You put your name on mine as well!”

It looked like Vergil wasn’t solely focused on standing up to Dante, but part of his attention was for the human world around him. So boring, so normal to Dante, yet so unusual and nostalgic to Vergil, who spent half of his life trapped in an endless nightmare. Probably he found interesting even the bicycles lined up and ready to be taken for some hours in exchange of money, or the bins brimming with rubbish.

The day was cold, but the sunrays caressing their faces was almost warm, and people walked around them, silently including Dante and Vergil, who didn’t belong to any world, to their flow.

“The cat.”

“Yes, Vergil. We’ll never find Mr Fluffle, so–”

“It’s hanging from that streetlamp. Why did nobody notice?”

Dante raised his eyes from the ground he was looking at while walking and spotted a chubby fluff of fur perched on the streetlamp above their heads. He wasn’t meowing in a desperate call for help, like Dante expected from a spoiled rich cat, but his big blue eyes were examining the surroundings in a severe conceited look: a king looking down on the peasants.

“The color is the same and I suspect there aren’t many cats wearing a ribbon almost bigger than them.” He chuckles. “I can’t believe it, Vergil, you found it!”

“Very well, Dante. It’s time you do your job and gain your salary.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I did part of the job finding the cat. The rest is up to you, legendary Devil Hunter.”

Vergil talked in a blank voice, which was more mockful than any face or tone he could have pulled.

“I haven’t chosen to be called like that, okay?”

And Dante started his glorious climb to get Mr Fluffle back to his owner. Everyone was so busy down there in the rush of buying Christmas presents, that almost nobody noticed a bizarre man dressed in red trying to reason with a cat with too long claws (but Dante was sure he heard a child yelling “Santa!” from the crowd).

About one hour later, the deep scratches on Dante’s skin had healed already, the reluctant cat had been brought back to her wealthy owner and was probably planning already the next escape, and Dante and Vergil were on their way back home. But then Vergil took the wrong way, and Dante had to call him.

“Hey, this way.”

“No, this way.”

“Vergil, I know where my office is.”

“I am aware, Dante. We are not going back to the office.”

Dante frowned. “Groceries?”

“Don’t you have a birthday present to buy?”

There are many things Dante had to elaborate in a short span of time: his brother, his selfish older brother, took the initiative to make him use the freshly earned money to buy a birthday present for not only a little girl he didn’t know and had nothing to do with him, but also who didn’t do a very good impression on him. Dante wondered if he hit the head somewhere the last night.

“Yep, I do indeed. Hey, I need a secretary for my job. Are you in?”

The look Vergil threw him was sharper than Yamato’s blade. “The earlier you pay your debt to that little girl, the earlier she won’t bother us anymore.”

“I guess there’s a couple of things about Patty I should tell you.”

Vergil headed near the sweets shop, but he didn’t give any attention to it. “I do not need to know them. You should look for a dress shop.”

“Do you have any idea how much a dress cost?”

“No, Dante. I haven’t bought one yet.”

If Vergil is making irony or he is deadly serious, Dante can’t tell. He shrugs and sighs. “Okay, I know a place. Lady and Trish buy their clothes there and pretend I pay for them.”

“Pretend?” Vergil sounds curious. “I knew you were shameful, but to the point you can’t even gain some respect from them…”

“Now that’s the caring gentle big brother I remember.”

Dante wasn’t updated on the latest female fashion and top selling clothes six months before, so he was absolutely hopeless after his holiday from the human world. The very moment they set foot on the shop, a clerk flocked to them, delighted to be their guide – Vergil tried to stay outside, but Dante expected him to and dragged him by his coat until he couldn’t escape anymore unless sticking Yamato into his brother’s ribs, not a very wise decision in front of a lot of very susceptible humans.

“So, you’re looking for–”

“A dress.” Vergil completed.

“And–”

“For a little girl.” He added, but Dante felt like that information was too vague.

“Eighteen.” He specified. “Our nephew. It’s her birthday’s present.” Or it would sound a bit too suspicious having two old men buying expensive stuff for a random girl.

Nothing too flashy, nor too plain. Dante didn’t expect Vergil to be so picky on girl dresses but couldn’t deny the evidence when the clerk put a fourth dress on the top of the others after his brother silently judged that poor taste with a serious glance and a small shook of his head.

Luckily, the fifth one was the right one. A bit old fashioned, the skirt wispy and creased and the upper shirt with a ribbon on the collar: somehow, it suited Patty in Dante’s mind. And, holy shit, it costed an arm and a leg.

“I can’t spend all this money.”

“Why not?”

“Because in two weeks it’ll be Christmas, meaning another present. And…” He looked again at the tag to make sure he didn’t misread. “Wow, just for a dress?”

“Your coat and boots may look raggedy, but they are more expensive than this.”

Vergil had a point, but Dante didn’t admit it. “Well, eighteen only once, right?” He grabbed the dress turned around, and a woman getting out from the changing room smashed against him. Dante was bigger and well built, so he didn’t feel the impact that much; the woman managed to stay on her feet and insulted him.

“Are you blind?!”

Dante knew that voice.

“Hey, long time no see.”

He looked at Lady, and Lady looked at him.

“Dante?” Her confused eyes wandered from Dante to Vergil, then back at Dante and at the dress in his hands. “Patty’s present?”

“Patty’s present.”

Lady faced many adversities and she was the human who could digest the most whatever Hell spit from its infernal stomach, may it be demons or bizarre and unexpected events. Like Dante’s dead brother who wasn’t dead and almost became King of Hell after trying to kill him (again) three times and then leave for a vacation with him. Actually, Dante wasn’t sure Lady was ready to accept some parts of that stuff.

“And are you bringing his majesty to take a walk?”

She talked about Vergil as if he was a dog, and Dante couldn’t really blame her, not after he stuffed her into a demonic vessel for a whole month. She didn’t sound angry, but Dante wouldn’t leave those two alone in a room for more than one second.

“No.” Vergil replied. “I helped him with the purchase.”

Establishing if Vergil made an excellent throwback or just ignored the insult was almost impossible due to his serious face, so Dante bypassed that first interaction.

“Okay, we’re gonna pay.”

Lady stood in front of his poor attempt of escaping. “Dante, we have to talk.”

And here it came. The moment Dante feared, when he had to explain why happened what happened (or better, why he left with his brother) without being able to give a proper explanation besides _“Because he is an asshole, and I missed him. I want to stay with him.”_

“You really gave Morrison the ownership over your office and not me?! I get Trish, but me! Your best friend!”

Or maybe not.

***

Vergil was stunned.

“Do you remember the couple of things you needed to know about Patty?” Dante wasn’t sure he was even listening, considering how he was staring at the frilly pink decorations invading the office with big shocked eyes. “This is one of those.”

Vergil made his way through the entrance door embellished with a garland of ribbons and had to move some balloons (balloons!) from the desk to put down the bags of groceries. He ate pizza and greasy food for two days and that was more than enough for the whole solar year, so he forced Dante to drop by the supermarket: his brother had to thank his demonic heritage if he didn’t turn into a fatty ball of flesh one month after surviving on his own.

“Okay, lord of healthy food…” Dante, totally unscathed by that twist of style of his personal place, wriggled a bunch of spinaches towards him. “…how do we eat these?”

“We cook them.” Vergil deadpanned him.

“But how?” They saw in each other’s eyes the harsh truth: neither of them had any solid idea on how to transform all that food in something which had a nice flavor. “…we need a book of recipes.”

“I’ll go buy one. I don’t trust you on this matter.”

“If you keep being so kind, I’ll burst into tears.”

“You cried often after all, didn’t you? Nothing has changed much.”

Dante crunched his teeth into an apple and made a strange snort with his nose. “Don’t get lost.”

“I won’t, Dante.”

Vergil got out and he probably missed Trish for one mere minute. Few dumb comments more, and he would have met the perfect copy of their mother who was also a loyal servant of Mundus and knew Nelo Angelo’s real identity. Possible drama avoided, Dante thought, but with Lady things didn’t go that bad – except her arguing with Vergil because she pretended Dante had to pay for her clothes as well, and Vergil remarked with all the politeness he possessed that she had no rights on their money (thank god she had a job scheduled for the afternoon and their discussion was postponed).

“Lady told me you were back.” As if six months hadn’t passed, Trish went sitting on the sofa to enjoy a magazine she had just bought. “How was Hell?”

“Funnier than expected.”

“That’s why you’ve spent six months there?”

“Yes. You know, years of catching up with Vergil.”

Actually, they didn’t talk much. They barely kept count of the demons they killed, laughed at each other’s failures and slept back against back. No thoughts except fighting and staying alive together. They bonded again over the clashes of their swords and the blood of the demons who dared interrupt them.

“Are those apples?”

“Yes.” They were crunchy and actually good. “Do you want one?”

Trish made a _no_ sign with her hand. “Do you want me to be here when he is back?”

Dante understands the meaning behind those words, but he just shrugs. “Do as you want.” They were adults, Vergil knew the matter more or less (once he mentioned Trish), and he didn’t want to worry about what could happen if they met, because he knew both and didn’t want any of them out of his life.

However, Trish left of her own will, and Vergil came back few minutes later.

***

Maybe in Hell they interacted more.

Vergil didn’t completely ignore Dante, but all he did was replying to an external input: good morning, good afternoon, yes, no, stupid. He had never said “Good morning” first, which was stupid, but Dante now had less guilt streaming inside him and more time to overthink stupid stuff. Was fighting the only way for them to reach each other?

“We haven’t called Nero yet.” Dante lazily avoided the swing of a demon claw and retaliated shooting a bullet into the demon’s head. “We should make him a surprise and go to Fortuna.”

Dante didn’t bring up the _Nero problem_ , as he liked to call it in his head when he reflected about it, until he received a real job from Morrison (no fat cats) and went with Vergil to slay some demons a careless priest who had lost his way to God decided to summon (his skinned skin was still hanging from the chandelier, gross). Three weeks passed since they returned to the human world, and Vergil didn’t get lost anymore when going to the baker. That was an improvement. Dante’s diet improved too, even if his passion for vegetables didn’t.

“You always talk too much, Dante.” Vergil cut the air with Yamato, sure that Dante would duck with no problems, while all the demons around faced their destiny of being sliced in two halves.

Dante stood up again. “Do not change topic. Nero deserves this at least.”

“From what you told me about him, I assume he can properly lead a nice life without me.”

“Come on, look at me into the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t want dad to come and visit you if he was alive.”

“The circumstances are different.”

“You’re right, but–” Dante dashed forward, his sword piercing close to Vergil’s face to sink deep into the flesh of a demon which disappeared with a long high-pitched shriek. “–he could have just let me kill you. He didn’t.”

Vergil pushed the sword away with the back of his hand. “Are you still basking in your foolish delusion that you could kill me on the top of the Qliphoth?”

“Just stop changing topic, would you?” Ebony rotated in his left hand, and Dante shot at a limb looming over him from behind without diverting his eyes from his brother. “For how much strange it sounds, Nero cares. Like mom did.”

He hit the right spot, because Vergil’s stance became slightly more rigid and he hesitated.

“Dante–” Whatever he was about to say, a chorus of infernal voices covered him, and they were suddenly surrounded by a group of flying creatures dropping bloods from their mouths. “–we’ll continue this conversation later.”

Whatever kind of demons those creatures were, they spilled blood at the minimum injury and killing them in one hit only made them explode in a bloody firework. Nothing that a good shower and a better coin laundry couldn’t resolve.

When Dante and Vergil finished, there was silence and blood around them.

Dante passed a hand among his hair but renounced because the locks sticky of blood tangled around his fingers. He glanced at Vergil, who was in his same unclean condition, completely drenched in stains of fresh blood.

“I hope they won’t take away the price for the cleaning.” He joked, but the hall of the church (who God probably abandoned in a hurry, since the demons decided to set their nest there) turned crimson.

Vergil sheathed Yamato and walked towards Dante. “They didn’t talk about not making the church dirty in the process. We simply dealt with their problem.”

“Not everyone is fond of that explanation–-hey, what are you doing?”

Dante was looking with critic eye at the demonic fluid painting the walls and caught at the last second a movement too close to him and wasn't able to dodge Vergil's hand. The clench on his jaw was firm, but the thumb rubbing against the corner of his lips was unexpectedly gentle.

“Did I have something on my mouth?”

Dante chuckled, trying to cut through the strange sensation sticking on him with a usual dose of nerves: Vergil was staring at him in silence, and Dante couldn't read his expression, maybe because they had never understood each other, or maybe because the stingy scent of blood blurred his senses.

“Vergil–”

Yamato emitted a sharp sound as Vergil slightly pushed it up from the scabbard. Dante ducked down with a laugh the cutting blow which split the demons aiming at them.

“For a second there I thought you wanted to skewer me.” He pulled out Ebony and Ivory, sending five projectiles in  five demon heads right behind Vergil.

“For once you are right, brother.”

The smile on Dante's face faded as he realized too late the lunge wasn't aimed at one of the demons who were late for the party, but at him. Once again, his brother lovingly stabbed him with Yamato, the blade penetrating him right into the stomach with such strength that he ended up impaled on the altar.

Vergil smirked at him from above. “I am always eager to skewer you.”

“Oh well...” Dante felt some drops of blood coughing out of his mouth. “...I'm relieved some things never change.” He raised Ivory and blasted away the last remaining demon who, over the confusion of the unexpected evolution of the situation, had a bad timing in attacking and didn't stand a chance. “You’ve ruined my coat, thanks brother.”

“You're welcome.” Vergil clenched his jaw again. “I suppose this may be too much for you.”

“Too much?” Dante chuckled. “What's too much? I can't feel a thing.”

Yamato twisted inside him, and more blood poured from inside his stomach. Dante turned his head, but Vergil forced him to look at him while the lust was devouring him beneath the surface of pain.

“So stubborn, Dante.”

They had six months in Hell to unleash themselves as they pleased, but apparently sharing a bloody kiss on the altar of a Church on its way to damnation was a better scenario for them to reveal the desire they felt for each other. It wasn't rational, neither they were good enough at reading themselves to understand what their natural inclination at aiming at each other's throat was hiding.

Vergil extracted Yamato and tasted with no mercy the blood regurgitating inside Dante’s mouth: the flavor was more satisfying than the bitter demonic blood, the taste of his brother refreshing like water for a thirsty human. He drank it until the last drop, before the wound healed around the blade; in that exact moment, Vergil pulled Yamato out, opening the cut again.

Dante looked up at the gleaming blue light into Vergil's eyes cracking in thin threads quickly running through all his body, enveloping him into a dazzling cocoon. The light exploded and spread the energy in a blast wave drenched in his desire, so strong and forceful that Dante dazed off for an instant. His brother’s devil form appeared in front of him, and he had nothing to complain when Vergil clawed at his trousers tearing them in pieces: all Dante could think about wasn't how those leather trousers weren't exactly cheap (he would complain later), but now he wanted Vergil’s spiky tongue into his mouth and his massive dick pulsating of a blue light into his pussy. Dante glanced at the threatening erection sprouting from the plate between his legs, and a hot shiver shook him at the idea of what Vergil could do to him.

Vergil didn’t leave him hanging in wait: he spread his legs and ogled at the inviting slit. He would wreck Dante, there was no way he could fit into his body in his human form; somehow his inner demon hadn’t completely devoured his human common sense, and Vergil hesitated. The cut into Dante’s stomach drew his attention, the edges of the skin tending to each other as the flesh regrew to sew the damage. Ah, yes, Dante suffered even worse but endured it, so Vergil could do that: he could force his dick into his brother, see how its shape bulged from his stomach, and Dante would squirm and scream in ecstasy.

Dante howled at the sunset sky as Vergil violated him on the altar. Savage and violent, Vergil felt the effort of Dante’s body to push him out when he thrusted inside and to suck him into when he moved back. Dante glanced at him with blurred eyes, seeming on the verge of unconsciousness, but something glimmered deep inside him. He laughed glancing at his old brother.

“You really… don’t know, Vergil.” His voice cracked in pleasure, his back arched, and Vergil admired the perfect outline of his erection through his brother’s abdomen.

Vergil didn’t know what Dante meant by that. He knew he didn’t know many things he was slowly catching up to: that nice tv program they watched with their mother didn’t have an end and was never continued, Dante didn’t like olives on his pizza (but he was crazy for them when he was a kid), and the only neighbor who didn’t despise Dante was an old lady who sometimes asked him to do the groceries for her. Vergil didn’t know many things, so he worried and at the same time he didn’t, because he had plenty of time now to discover them.

With a husky grunt, Vergil raised Dante on his lap and sat on the altar. He felt Dante’s body gliding more down his dick and enjoyed the pained grimace on his face, almost as much as he liked the sensation of his brother’s fingers trying to dig into his thick armored skin. Dante clung onto his back too desperate and too close for Vergil to resist the temptation of his lips slightly disclosed.

It wasn’t even a kiss, but just Vergil shoving his tongue into Dante’s mouth and clumsily moving it from side to side, as if he was tasting some intriguing meal. Yet, that gesture was something more intimate than him fucking his little brother on the altar of a Church where, if there was a God, it surely made its way out in the very moment everything began.

“Vergil…” Dante panted “…what the hell?” His small laugh cracked in a delighted moan. He felt something much bigger and harder pushing against him, spreading him even more to grant a wet and warm welcome.

Dante couldn’t see how the swollen knot at the base of Vergil’s dick was penetrating him, sticking itself into his body so that it would remain inside until Vergil poured his load into him. He just felt his body opening more and groaned at the sensation of being ravished inside so deep and intensely. His mind was in rapture, focused on the beauty of his brother’s demonic form and the joy of being senseless fucked by him. He didn’t notice the demons circling them, enchanted by the bizarre view of a demon possessing a human.

Vergil did.

Their mindless eyes ogled at the clear skin beaded in sweat, shining under the last feeble rays of the setting sun filtering through the broken windows. They couldn’t stop staring at Dante pushed without mercy against the knot, nor avoid enjoying his voice hiccupping desperate moans. But the last thing they heard was the sharp cut of incorporeal blades slicing them up, and the last thing they saw was Dante arching his whole body and throwing his head back in an ecstatic scream.

Vergil’s demonic power, drenched in thick killing intent, filled Dante to the brim. His view went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fluffle's idea is kikipancakes'. I don't remember if Mr Fluffle was the name, but the twins had to look for a cat because the owner was rich.


	3. Eat, ate, eaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more pizza man (or not?).

Nero believed he was accustomed to bizarre events.

At the beginning of his adulthood he discovered he was part demon; his heritage didn’t come from a common blood thirsty beast crawling in Hell, but he was Sparda’s grandson, the savior of humanity himself. Dante hit him with a double truck, revealing that his murderous twin was his father, stomping on the feeble (and secret) hope Nero had on Dante being his father. Then, what remained of his blood ties disappeared in Hell for months and went back with the same verve of two old men who had just enjoyed a long vacation. These out-of-ordinary events were his ordinary life.

Yet, he still didn’t feel good talking with Vergil – that felt stranger than him growing a demonic glowing arm or re-growing again the arm his father ripped off him, but this time a human version of it. They weren’t even talking. Nero was staring at his ruined boots he patched the best he could, trying to find a way to initiate a conversation.

Nero entered the shop believing to find Dante, and he was already wearing his best pissed off face so he could start snarling at him, who came back and didn’t say a thing (Nico came to know it through Lady). But everything crumbled as Vergil opened the door, and Nero’s brain stopped functioning. What did Nico use to say? 405, paper not found?

Nero, even before greeting his father, asked where Dante was. On a mission, Vergil replied, and that was all they told each other.

Now, Nero was sitting on the chair behind the desk, hearing the occasional flips of the pages of Vergil’s book accompanying the uncomfortable silence. He was as precise as needles on a clock. A flip of page every three minutes more or less.

_ Flip _

_ Flip _

_ Flip _

“How are you?” Nero’s abrupt question didn’t shake him in the slightest.

“I’m doing fine.”

_ I’m doing fine as well _ , Nero thought as silence descends again, _thank you._

“And how was Hell?”

“Filled with demons.”

Nero was stuck. He had so many questions, about his mother, about him. Did Vergil know about him? Did he abandon him? Did he want him in his life had he known about his existence? Or was the book thrown at him only a scene? Ah, the book, he forgot that thing. Nero tried to read it, but poetry wasn’t exactly his thing. He was boiling into that mingle of unanswered questions which sounded too stupid in his head to leave his mouth. So, he didn’t say anything, and waited for Vergil to talk. However, Vergil had his nose in a book –his face couldn’t be more different from V’s, but Nero recognized the boy in the way his eyes moved to read the lines– and his attention was focused on the pages, erasing everything around him. Erasing Nero.

Dante saved him from that miserable condition.

“I’m back.” His voice sounded quite dull, he looked tired. But maybe that was just Nero’s impression, because as Dante noticed him, he smirked. “Hey, you came all the way here to meet your old man.”

Dante acted as if he didn’t disappear for months in Hell, and they last met few days before. No pathetic hugs, no questions, no explanations. Nero deep down wanted all of those things but didn’t expect any of them and he was right. Dante’s presence was enough for Nero to remember the mood he nurtured all the way from Fortuna and frowned at him.

“Hey, you could have ringed me.” He raises the telephone to smash it back. “Can you even use this?!”

“I don’t have your number.”

Oh, right. A little detail that didn’t even pass through Nero’s mind, because Dante sent him the sign flashing on the side of his van, so he could find out his phone number if only he wanted to. Instead of telling him what his mind elaborated, he skipped directly to the last bit.

“This means you didn’t want to, right?” That came out harsher than he meant to, and Dante looked confused. Then Nero realized he forgot the middle part and wanted to slap his face with both his wings. “Well, glad to see you two brothers are okay now.”

His plans were different: go to Dante’s office, get angry at him, pretend more explanations and receive those explanations. He had already renounced to ask any question back then after the incident in Fortuna, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again. But Nero’s plans never went the way they were supposed to.

“Nero–”

“I have stuff to do at home.” Nero cut Dante’s attempt of saying anything. “I just came to check you two didn’t grow anything else.” He glanced back at Vergil, but he hardly moved the hands to turn the pages. “Even if that would give me more work and income.”

“Do you want to stay for dinner? We cook now.” Dante presented that basic survival skill as a great achievement.

Yes. “No.”

“I see, you must be busy. Another time then?”

“…yes. But don’t disappear again!” Because I’ll miss you again. “Because that would mean trouble.”

Dante smiled. “And here I thought you missed me at least.”

“Well, gotta go now. See you.” Nero turned around to hide the slight blush on his face and stalked out of the office. When he heard how Dante greeted him, the color painting his cheeks became deeper.

“See you soon, Nero.” No silent gestures, no adios. That definitely meant Dante wasn’t planning on disappearing (again) any soon, right?

As Nero closed the door, Dante massaged the back of his head.

“What happened here?”

Vergil didn’t raise his eyes from the book. “Nero just came to visit.”

“I saw that.”

It didn’t seem like he was in the mood to talk. Dante didn’t force him (not his style) and took his coat off. He was tired. Not because of the job, just a demon who could barely hurt an adult human but took the habit to kidnap kids; his body was fine, but he was mentally exhausted. One month since he and Vergil fucked in the church, and one month since the last they had a more or less decent interaction. It was almost like living alone again. Dante wondered more than once if Vergil regretted giving up to the instinct which drove him almost feral – he, Dante, definitely didn’t, he enjoyed it too much to deny the truth.

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say much.”

“It’s not like you are a conversationalist.” Dante scratched his beard, prickly under the fingertips: it was time to shave again. “Maybe he wanted you to go live with him.”

“Why would he?” Vergil finally put his book down, and Dante believed he hit the right button. “He has his life, without me.”

“I’m not the one you should ask.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Dante held his breath for one second, enough for Vergil to notice it. “No. You can stay, you can leave…” He made a wavy gesture with his hand. “…you can do as you please, as you’ve always done.” His voice came out as carefree as he planned to, and that was a relief. He grabbed the phone. “I’m ordering pizza, it’s been a while. What kind do you prefer?”

“Are you sure you can afford that?”

“Hey, I have money now!”

“I’m not talking about money. That t-shirt looks tighter now on your stomach.”

Dante glanced down, where the black cloth almost squeezed his stomach. It was difficult to notice, but it wasn’t anymore as flat as few weeks before. He chuckled.

“Looks like someone gotta learn how to use the washing machine then.”

“Or eat less.”

“I’m sure it’s because of all those vegetables. My stomach is still getting used to them.”

Vergil slightly shook his head, deeming that last comment as foolish.

Dante couldn’t believe he managed to talk for more than ten seconds with his brother. That was enough.

***

“Dante, what’s with that tight t-shirt?”

Lady was staring at Dante’s stomach. Trish observed the unusual folds of the black cloth on Dante’s stomach and agreed with a nod.

Dante glanced at them. “I didn’t buy any new clothes.”

“Ah. So, you put on some weight.”

“Do you think so?” Dante touched his stomach. “It’s a bit swollen, maybe stress.”

“Or maybe that.” Lady pointed at the slice of pizza he is about to devour.

“Nah. I’m living with my brother now and eating healthier. It’s stress.”

Lady rolled her eyes. “Talking about that, how is it going?”

“What?”

“Having your brother back.”

“As usual.”

Dante shrugged. He was clearly telling them he didn’t feel like talking about that; Dante hardly ever talked about himself, Lady and Trish were used to that, but that didn’t mean they weren’t curious about it. Dante reunited with the brother he tried to kill and now they were living under the same roof. He didn’t say a word about what happened in Hell, and he wasn’t spilling a single letter on how things were going in the human world.

“Well, do something for this.” Lady pressed her index against Dante’s stomach; few months before, the tip of the finger wouldn’t sink in a layer of soft flesh. “Or are you thinking of hanging up your guns?”

“And leaving you ladies all the fun?” Dante chuckled. “No way.” He tended an arm to grab the last slice of pizza, but Lady was faster and grabbed it.

“Then you should start eating less and running more, or you won’t catch many demons.” She took a mouthful and wrinkled her nose: her taste and Dante’s in pizza were very different. “I gotta go now. Trish, do you mind giving me a ride?”

“I do.” But Trish was already taking her guns.

“You won’t need those. It’ll be an easy job.”

“But then we can bet on who’s gonna eliminate more demons.”

“That would make it less boring, if only I didn’t beat you already.”

Trish chuckled. “You wish. That was my win.”

They were still talking about it when they got out of the office, leaving Dante alone. It was a relief.

He liked when the girls hung around, even more if they were in action, because that was when Dante felt like the problems couldn’t reach him. Whenever he stopped, everything came back at him, and he didn’t want to share his problems with the others. Not for a specific reason, he wasn’t used to it, because for too long he remained alone and for too long his problems killed and hurt people he cared about.

Dante couldn’t say things with Vergil were worsening, but only because they weren’t going forward anymore. In Hell, they fought every single day, the adrenaline of the fight rushed with their blood and fueled them; if it was the happiness of being together again as brothers, or the ancient heritage of their demonic blood, Dante didn’t know. In the human world, that wonderful chemistry vanished.

When they fought in the church against the demons, Dante felt once again the appealing shiver exploding inside him, as his sword pierced through the rotten demonic flesh. Vergil felt it as well, Dante was sure, he sensed the rebound echoing inside his ears and messing with his head. But he isn’t sure he would reject his brother messing with his brother even if he wasn’t running on a demonic sprout of homicidal energy.

He didn’t know what Vergil was thinking, and they weren’t establishing a new form of communication, so there was no way to discover more. One month, and Vergil didn’t try to talk him once – he didn’t even talk to Nero properly.

He sighed and shook his head. The pizza box was empty, the girls ate it all but the only slice Dante managed to get his hands on. He grabbed the phone and started making the number, one of the few worth reminding by heart. But then, Dante scratched his stomach and clearly felt under the tips of the fingers an unusual softness for his body, right where back then he could only feel his thick strong abs.

He put the phone down and stood up. He had to prepare dinner.

***

It had been more than one month since the last Dante tasted a good slice of pizza. The delicious smell coming from the plates of the two girls sitting on a table in front of a restaurant made his stomach squirm, but he ignored the crave and kept walking. If at first it wasn’t so difficult renouncing to his daily cheat meals, in the last couple of days, Dante found himself craving whatever food leaked oil or sugar.

Vergil was next to him, stiff in his elegant coat. He was keeping his eyes pointed in front of him, opposite to Dante, who woke up that morning thinking how much he would enjoy a strawberry sundae and was distracted by the café and ice cream shop they passed by.

His belly remained there, pressing against any t-shirt he had enough to show that his stomach wasn’t a flat iron board anymore. Oh, if he pushed the fingers, he still felt the hard-rock muscles, but the new soft layer ruined the view.

“What’s wrong with your stomach?”

Lately, Vergil talked again to him. Only for trivial matters, but it was better than nothing. Dante ogled at a nice meal put on display on one of the tables of a small restaurant and started rubbing his stomach just to let the arm dangle down his hip as Vergil spoke.

“I’m hungry.” His stomach hurt from hunger. “Let’s hurry and finish this job.”

He deserved even a tiny slice of pizza: he managed to save more money than usual because he kept accepting more jobs than usual, even non-demons related ones, so that he could be free from Vergil’s suffocating silence screaming into his ears. It was nice being able to reach the end of the month with both light and water.

The owner of a building in reconstruction outside the town claimed that demons were hiding inside and feasting from time to time on the workers who, obviously, refused to work there anymore. There were demons, indeed. Some weaklings escaped from Hell to avoid being eaten and decided to become the top of the food chain in the human world. A very common scenario for a very good price, Dante thought as they reached the place.

“Do not destroy anything, Dante. I do not want to waste our payment in useless refunds once again.”

“Last time it wasn’t my fault.”

Dante slashed a fat tongue aiming at his head and it squeezed a pool of blood as it squirmed on the floor like the tail of a lizard. The flesh looked juicy, Dante noticed, like tomato sauce. He shook his head and ignored the cramps devouring him from the inside. He was always hungry since when he stopped eating too much; it seemed his body didn’t want to follow his attempt of getting rid of the squishy pillow growing on over his abs.

“You’re slow, Dante.” Vergil always talked when they fought demons, another reasons for Dante to accept jobs who he used to leave to Lady or Trish. “I’m up three.”

“I’m just giving some advantage to my old brother. Enjoy your gap until you can!”

Dante rose the sword like a bat and swung the blade right into the wide-opened jaws ready to swallow him as a whole. He cut it in two, from the mouth to the tail, and the strength of his hit sent the halves flying like projectiles back to a couple of demons; the corpse of their comrade pierced through their bellies and their roars froze forever on their ugly faces.

Ah, his stomach hurt as if something inside was scratching it. Just how much has he denied himself some good food? And for what? He may have a soft belly, but he was in his best shape to hunt and kill demons.

“Vergil, you’ve just lost your advantage!”

He laughed and felt his throat tickling. In a cough, Dante splashed a big drop of blood at his feet. The pain in his stomach was killing him now. Okay, he may have underestimated his pain, which was easy, since he was used to being jammed and stabbed by any sort of things – and that helps numbing the exact level of pain he needed to understand when he was close to his limit. His body healed itself easily. But Dante coughed again, and again he spat blood. His boots were dirty, perfect. His felt his head heavier and thought that he had to hurry and clean the blood from those boots, his favorite, because once it dried, they would be done for.

His head felt so heavy that he lost the balance and couldn’t do anything to get back on his feet. It was like watching a very boring show from the outside, and the show was him falling down like the bridge from the lullaby their mother sometimes chanted. He probably should panic at some point, but his whole body zapped out the perceptions and he had no time to elaborate such feelings, nor he was hearing the roars around him anymore.

Dante lost consciousness before hitting the floor.

When he woke up, there was a familiar ceiling above him, and Vergil was so pale he looked sick.

“…you look like you’re about to faint, Vergil.”

If he didn’t know his brother well, Dante would say he had just sighed of relief. “And you fainted, Dante.”

His throat felt parched to the point he wondered if someone poured sand into his mouth. He tried to sit down, but Vergil pushed him back on the bed. A hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch. It reminded him of their mother, when they had the fever but wanted to go play nonetheless. Dante meekly obeyed.

“Water…” He huffed, afraid that more blood would come out.

It took Vergil about two minutes to go and fetch some water, yet it felt like an eternity. His stomach burnt, and he was weak and hungry. He wanted food so bad that even that demon tongue he severed (one of the last things he saw) seemed a delicious treat in his memories and made his mouth water.

As if Vergil read his mind, he came back with a bottle of water and a paper bag. The smell coming from it was of fried, greasy, fat food, so unhealthy yet so impossible to resist. Dante ripped the bag from Vergil’s hands and forgot he was thirsty: his hunger was deeper and it was devouring his flesh from the inside. The oily sauce dripped on his hands, his fingers became coated in salt and meat grease, and his mouth dirtied with crumbles of bread and salad. He was eating with the greed of a starved man.

“I want more.” He was about to finish devouring the food, enough for two humans, but not for him. “I’m still hungry.” Dante talked with his mouth filled of meat, bread and tomato.

Vergil handed him the bottle of water. “First, drink this.”

The water felt refreshing and almost more delicious than the food. Dante gulped it down from the bottle until nothing remained but his crave to ingest something more.

Vergil brought more food and Dante swallowed it all with the same rush, devouring every single crumble until everything disappeared. He drank again, the water washed the delicious flavor from his mouth and quenched his throat. The hunger was soothed, and Dante realized he had just eaten in the frenzy of a wild demon, dirtying his hands, mouth and chin, because he cared more of suppressing that painful squeeze into his stomach than following the proper manners he was taught.

Vergil handed him a wet towel. It was warm and soft, almost like a human tender touch. When was the last time his brother was so gentle with him again? Maybe that time when he dared Dante to jump into the lake; it was November, and Dante caught the flu, he didn’t wake up for two days and, when he did, he found Vergil curled around his arm, his cheeks still wet from tears.

Dante felt better without the sticky remnants of the food all over him. His stomach didn’t burn anymore, he was just tired. With a sigh, he careful leaned down again, facing the ceiling. The bed near his leg cracked a bit – he had to change the mattress sooner or later. Dante felt it sinking first near his knee, then at the side of both his thighs and Vergil raised his t-shirt enough to touch his stomach. His fingers were cold, but his breath pleasantly warm, and his lips soft. Dante endured it.

“Vergil…” Dante cursed the feeble tremble into his voice. His hand slid along his chest and reached his brother’s head; his fingers clenched on his hair. “…you can’t be rough with me now.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Liar…”

“Don’t worry.” Vergil looked at him, his face an endless enigma “I’ll be gentle.” and sank between his legs. Dante turned his head to the warm sunset. But even like that, all he could see was his brother’s eyes, and all he could feel was his strong body against him.

***

“We should go… back.”

Vergil pronounced those words in Hell, while they were relaxing after a wave of demons and waiting for the next one.  He had a brief hesitation, and Dante thought his brother was about to say _home_.

“Back where?”

“The human world.”

There were many things Dante wanted to ask him. Why did he want to go back? And back there exactly? Redgrave City? Fortuna? Elsewhere? – His office, maybe, and the thought warmed Dante’s chest.

They went back. Vergil opened the portal in his town, and not somewhere random, but in the very spot he revived Temen-ni-gru like a giant spectral tree. Actually, having things with plants may be something which runs in the family, because plants were the only thing that had a stable presence and survived in Dante’s office until Lady and Trish happened.

Dante didn’t know if Vergil considered his office _home_ as he used to do with the place where they grew up together, but now his brother was holding him into his arms, and it didn’t matter at all. Or better, it mattered, but Dante didn’t want to ruin that precious moment insinuating the shadow of a matter that would break the peace between them. No words, only his brother slowly caressing his belly and rubbing his head.

So, it was surprising, almost scary, when Vergil spoke first.

“I have been nurturing this desire for a long time.”

Dante glanced at him. Maybe Vergil wasn’t expecting it, because he looked surprised and immediately put his chin on his head so that their eyes wouldn’t meet again.

“What? Having a baby with me?”

“Sex.” Two seconds of silence. “I haven’t planned the baby.”

“Neither have I.” Dante thought about the little creature floating somewhere into him and who started eating his own mother’s flesh when the food wasn’t enough for both. “I didn’t even know I could bear one. It’s never happened.” He implied that, yes, he had sex with other men who were aroused by his pussy and, yes again, sometimes it wasn’t protected; because he was young and also kind of an idiot.

Vergil grasped the gist of it, Dante felt it in the slight pressure of his whole body as he pulled him more into his arms.

“Dante…”

“Yeah?”

“…what are we going to do now?”

One surprise after another: Dante didn’t remember he had ever listened to his brother asking for help or advice. Even as children, he’d rather fail and suffer than ask their mother and admit he had no clue.

“Why are you asking me?”

“I guess it’s quite obvious.” Vergil sounded resented. “I don’t remember how to live on this side… No. I don’t think I have ever learnt it.”

Oh right. Before the endless wandering in Hell, Vergil had lived more like a demon than a human. Not that Dante himself decided to become the worthiest example of human being.

Dante intertwined the fingers of the hand on his stomach. “I’m afraid we’ll have to learn together.” He brought it to his mouth and kissed the wrist tenderly. “Although I’ve been living here forever, I still suck at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed your children.


	4. Who let the cat out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero almost bitch-slaps a cat.

Nero joined them for dinner on a Friday and accepted to stay for the whole weekend. Actually, if it weren’t for Kyrie who insisted for him spending some time with his father and uncle, and Nico who was now part of the family and would stay behind to take care of everything, he probably would have refused. Or at least, that was what Nero wanted to think.

He was nervous. A young man standing in front of a shady shop, wondering if he had to enter or not. He had the whole time of the travel from Fortuna to Dante’s office to elaborate the idea he was about to spend more than a quick mission to save the world with Dante and Vergil. But, of course, the truth of the scenario hit him at full speed only when he read the sign of the shop.

Dante sent him a neon sign inspired to that same one as a sign of respect. Then, in his own very special way, he revealed that he trusted him, and he could leave and stay with his brother only because of him. Nero tried not to think about it, because he blushed every time, even after seven months. And his father threw a boring book at him – why wasn’t Dante his father, really? This time, he brought it along.

It was the third time Nero went to Dante’s office; first was when Lady called Nico to commission her a new weapon, and Nico dragged him because she didn’t want to do the journey alone in the van.

He opened the door and smelt the delicious scent of food; meat and some vegetables. Nero couldn’t believe one of them actually cooked, because he had always associated that job with Kyrie (and women) and had never tried himself spending some time in the kitchen. Dante and Vergil lived alone, but he would rather imagine them daily ordering take away than wearing a cute apron and – holy shit, Vergil was wearing a light blue apron with ribbons and holding a knife.

Stunned by the view of his father (oh shit) with an apron, Nero opened his mouth but not a sound came out, nor Vergil did anything to initiate the conversation. Then Dante came out from the kitchen as well, wearing a similar apron, but pink.

“Hey Nero! You’re a bit early.”

“…uh yeah. Sorry?”

Nero sat on the sofa, was given a glass of juice and started a very embarrassing game of not looking at each other with Vergil – who was still wearing the apron. Lured in by the silence, Dante looked out.

“…hey Vergil, could you just come–”

Vergil didn’t let Dante finish and he was already going to him. It was weird, Nero thought, but maybe Vergil just didn’t want to stay more than necessary with him, and the one who truly wanted him there was Dante. Or at least, that was the tiny hope Nero clung to.

“Just go and keep Nero some company.” Nero heard Vergil’s voice.

“I already told you, Vergil.” Dante sounded quite threatening. “I am fine and I don’t need to spend entire days lying on the sofa.”

“Yes. Because the bed would be better.”

“Are you craving so much a bullet in your ass, brother?”

“I dare you try that in your condition, Dante.”

There was a clanking sound, as if someone dropped some objects in a metallic container, then, Dante. “You know what? The kitchen is all yours.”

Nero was uncomfortable. He witnessed them almost killing each other, but hearing them arguing like normal people made him feel like a young child distressed by his parents’ yells – they weren’t yelling, but Nero had never heard Dante talking in such a firm and pissed voice.

When Dante came out from the kitchen, he was smiling already; maybe he prepared himself for Nero.

“How were these months?” He asked sitting next to him.

“The usual. Demons, Nico complaining she doesn’t have enough material to build her pieces of art…” Nero felt at ease now that Dante seemed to be back to his usual self. “How was in Hell?”

“The usual. Demons, demons, fights, my brother who cheated at the count of demons we killed.”

Vergil’s voice floated from the kitchen. “You were the one who kept cheating.”

Nero couldn’t ignore the brief tense moment from before, but now the atmosphere was relaxed, so he decided that was a matter to forget.

“It sounds like you two had fun.”

“Yeah, quite a lot.” Dante chuckled. “I met the ladies, and they told me you helped them out more than once.”

“Morrison just happened to call me for big jobs. But they could have handled it without me as well.”

“Being modest, huh?”

“There’s no need to be modest. I kicked your ass…” He pointed at the kitchen. “…and his.” Nero couldn’t tell if Vergil heard or not, because there was no reply.

“Bold words from some kid who took advantage of two old men who were already tired.”

“I can take you on whenever you want.” Nero glanced at the soft belly showing from under Dante’s t-shirt. “Or do you need some time to get back in shape?”

Dante snorted a laugh. “I’ll kick your ass right now, if you are in.”

“Some action before dinner, huh? Why not?”

Because Vergil almost appeared out of nowhere in front of them, stood one step from them and glared down at Dante. Nero couldn’t help but compare him to Credo when he was ready to lecture him because he disobeyed to the orders, knocked off some knights, didn’t clean his room or all the three together: Vergil had the same look of an angered parent.

“Because you can’t, Dante.”

“I would explain the situation first.”

“Liar.”

“Yes, okay, I wouldn’t.” Dante admitted. “But let me remind you that–”

“I-said-no.”

Dante, who was ready to stand up, leaned back against the sofa and groaned. “…okay. Your win for now.”

Nero was confused. “What the hell is going on here? Is Dante sick or something?” Did he catch some strange illness in Hell? Or did Vergil want to avoid their neighbors suspecting that two demons lived next door?

“I’m not sick.”

“But you aren’t in condition of fighting either.” Vergil pointed out.

Nero groaned in exasperation. “What then? Did you injure yourself and couldn’t heal?” He was angry because he didn’t understand what condition Dante may have to make Vergil worry (worry?) about him like that. And, of course, those two idiots weren’t informing him on the matter.

Actually, Nero counted on Dante and not on Vergil. He barely knew his _father_ , and Vergil didn’t mind spending at least a couple of minutes with him the moment he arrived, and that–

“Dante is pregnant, so he should behave.”

–broke Nero’s mind.

“It’s not funny.” He blurted out. “If you made me come here just to fuck with me–”

“I can understand why you think I’m joking.” Vergil replied. “But why should I?”

That was a nice point, and Nero had no means to reply. If Vergil was even the slightest similar to when he was V, then he probably wouldn’t resort to that kind of low-quality jokes. Or jokes in general.

“Vergil, do you remember when I told you not to be so direct?” Dante formed a X crossing his arms. “Well, you have totally missed the point.”

Nero didn’t listen to Vergil telling Dante that there was no way to be less direct about telling such a thing, because he was too busy trying to elaborate the whole thing to care about their bicker. Dante, a male, was pregnant. Okay, after not dying for being stabbed multiple times in the chest and stomach, and after he grew an entire arm back, Nero believed there was nothing left in that world that could shock him. Considering that shock came directly from Hell, he wasn’t so wrong.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat trying not to look at Vergil. “And, who is the father?” Dante’s eyes darted briefly towards Vergil, thus confirming Nero’s intuition. The shock became a shapeless ball of anxiety into his stomach, so Nero couldn’t estimate the level of surprise of that last information. “So, the reason it took you six months to come back…?”

“No, it happened when we came back.” Dante explained. “Not immediately really, we were–”

“Yeah, no details, thanks!”

Nero wanted to believe both Dante and Vergil are pulling a prank on him because of some kind of half-demon sense of humor he isn’t able to understand. But that’s just a delusion which quickly faded away: Nero couldn’t tell for Vergil, but for sure he had a high consideration of Dante, and he wouldn’t joke on something like that. At least, not for so long, without smirking nor pulling some gag.

“I can’t believe it.” He concluded while his brain was still working to put the pieces in the right place. “How would I know this is for real? Like, is the baby kicking already?”

“Not yet.” Unless the baby felt so hungry to devour his guts, but Dante omitted the detail. “I just feel it.”

“What do you mean? Like some… rock inside you?”

Dante frowned. “Hey, that’s rude. No, it’s more like–”

“Why don’t you try?”

Finally, Nero had to look at Vergil, who didn’t change his expression in the slightest.

“Try?”

“Put a hand on Dante’s belly.”

“Hah?” Nero grimaced. “Are you kidding? Why should I touch Dante’s belly?!”

“That’s the quickest way to feel the baby. And I suppose you are bad at sensing demonic energy, so, without a first-hand contact, it would be difficult for you.”

Nero’s mood whirled between confusion and anger so quickly that he just stared dumbfounded at Vergil, not being able to make one of those emotions prevail.

“Do you really think I suck?” His pride quickly took the lead. “I’ll show you!” _You_ _deadbeat father_ , he snarled into his head.

The short distance between Nero’s hand and Dante’s stomach was enough for Nero to drop all the confidence that boasted him. He was an adult who was going to touch another adult’s belly. Whatever the reason might be, it sounded too strange. But Dante had already raised his sweater, showing the soft folds of his belly – holy shit, he couldn’t back now.

Nero first thought it looked so plump that he wanted to touch it, then jolted at his own idea. “…if I hurt you, tell me.”

“I’m pregnant, not hypersensitive.” Dante pointed out.

There was no coming back. Nero erased the little distance between them and carefully leaned the open palm on Dante’s belly. It was soft and warm; that aside, nothing else. They were joking. Nero was about to think that, when a small shiver tickled his hand. A tiny wave of energy so little that he barely felt poking his skin, but it was there. And it wasn’t Dante’s.

“…shit.”

He was going to have a sibling.

***

Dante and Vergil could cook. A dinner destroyed the apocalyptic idea of two old men relying solely on gentle neighbors and take away food Nero had built carefully during the last month. The meat and side dish were good, and the dessert had a strange shape but damn if it wasn’t delicious – Nero ate three portions.

Mostly because Nero felt nervous sitting there and doing nothing, but also a tiny bit because he deep inside wanted to bond with his father, he decided to help Vergil washing the dishes. Actually, Vergil washed them, and Nero wiped them. At some point, Dante, who was almost forced by Vergil to remain on the sofa, fell asleep while watching the television. Nero looked how Vergil was careful while making him lean down, putting a pillow under his head and covering him with a blanket: if he told anyone they tried to slay each other only seven months before, nobody would have believed him.

“Is Dante okay? He barely flinched when you… put him to bed.” More or less.

“It’s been few days he gets tired easily and sleeps a lot.”

“Because of the… baby?”

It was strange talking about Dante’s child who was inside him right now. Dante was a man, and Nero’s brain hadn’t fully elaborated the idea he was pregnant, no matter if he felt the energy of his (ohmygod) brother.

“I read on a book that the first months and the last one are the most tiring.”

“A book on demon pregnancy?”

“I’m quite positive there are no such books around. But I estimated that Dante’s pregnancy shouldn’t be so different from a normal woman.”

Nero had so many objections. Dante wasn’t a woman, and even if he was, he wasn’t really normal due to demon blood running into his veins. What if a demon’s pregnancy was different from a human’s? And maybe it could depend on the demon, since there were many kinds and everyone with unique characteristics – thanks Nico for the daily blabbers.

“…how does a demon give birth? Eggs?”

Among all the questions related to Dante, Nero chose the most stupid which made no sense, and would have slapped his face if only he wasn’t wiping a dish in front of Vergil. It was surprising that Vergil replied at his question seriously.

“It depends on demons. Some lay eggs and then fertilize them, some others have sex like humans. Those with very simple forms manage to create copies from themselves, but usually die if they do it too many times. Nobody has ever really studied demons from a proper scientific point of view, so I’m just telling you what I read and saw with my very own eyes.”

“Heh, I wonder why no scientist is riding the boat to Hell.”

His experience of science meeting demons turned out being a true Hell, and he had lost his brother because of it. Nero didn’t know why humans basically divided into preys, hunters and fucking stupid people who wanted to turn themselves into demons. And then there was Nico. But she used demons as a support for him and the dream of becoming the best gunsmith of all times, so maybe she fell in the hunters group – in other words, she didn’t care if demons fucked and how they reproduced, unless it was good joke or work material.

Somehow, Vergil was probably thinking the same, because he replied “Humans are either scared or lured in by the power of the demons.”

“Was Eva the same?” The question slipped from Nero’s mouth before he could stop it; so, one second too late, Nero had to adjust things (he didn’t like how Vergil got rigid). “Trish just told me she was human. I was trying to know more about myself.”

“I see.”

That sealed a brief silence filled only by the running water and the gentle sound of the cutlery and dishes clattering.

“Was my mother–”

“Human.”

“Oh. Okay.”

That was relieving. Lady talked about Vergil only once, and his thoughts about humans made Nero think that his mother might be a demon, since his father seemed to despise frail and weak humanity. Somehow, the thought he was more of a demon than a human wasn’t comforting, especially since when he fully transformed into a demon. Nico may not care, Kyrie may always be smiling, but Nero deep inside felt unease at himself and his growing desire and fun of slaying demons.

“Dante was worried.”

Vergil spoke while Nero was busy putting in order his thoughts and feelings, so he didn’t get at first what he meant and went with a dumb “Huh?”

“He didn’t want to tell you.”

“…why?”

“Because you might have been disgusted by his current state.”

Nero frowned “I’m not disgusted.” He was confused. “I’m pissed.”

“Pissed?”

“Yeah. And not only at Dante. I’m pissed at both! One month since your return and none of you thought of calling me!” Oh right, he was angry, now he recalled it. “Then this baby and–”

“You are the first one we told.”

“–and… wait, really?”

Vergil nodded. “Yes. Nobody knows, but you.”

Well, that was pleasant. “…why me first? I mean, Dante knows Lady and Trish from much longer than me.”

“I have no idea. Maybe he considers you more like a son than a nephew.” The dish almost fell from Nero’s hands. “We haven’t had any chance to talk about this, but I’m positive that may be the reason.”

“N-not much time?” Nero covered his embarrassment with a snort. “You’ve been in Hell for six months!”

“We were busy fighting and keeping count of kills.”

“…oh yeah, why didn’t I figure it out?” Nero was ironic, but he doubted Vergil caught it. “You make it sound like your relationship with Dante is all about fighting.”

“It has always been, since we were children.”

“Yeah, bullshit.” Nero doesn’t hear anymore the clatter and raises his head: Vergil is looking at him. “…I’m just saying that if you constantly were at each other’s throat, you wouldn’t bother putting a blanket on him.”

“So that’s what you think?”

“Yes, I do.” Nero challenged him pulling all the insolence he had in his inventory. “I think you two are full of bullshit sometimes. Like all that fucking bickering on the top of a deadly tree just to leave…” me alone again “…together eventually.”

Vergil nodded. “You are quite foul-mouthed, aren’t you?”

Nero smirked. “What’s the point then? Am I grounded now?”

That first attempt at bonding didn’t went well. Vergil didn’t seem to care enough about him, not more than he would with someone he barely knew. But that was exactly the problem: they were strangers. Nero didn’t know if Vergil knew about his existence before the Qliphoth incident, and, honestly, he managed to build his own life even without his biological father around, because he had a family who chose him.

His head kept clinging on the delusion that, after all, he didn’t mind whether Vergil cared or not: he had Kyrie, Nico, the kids, he got along with Lady, Trish, Morrison, and Dante definitely cared about him – Lady pointed out how Dante was such an asshole and made sure his office had a supervisor instead of falling into her or Trish’s hands, but he didn’t think twice to spend lots of money to give Nero the neon sign.

Nero was so busy thinking while sitting on the bed that someone (Dante probably) prepared for him, that he didn’t notice the knock on the door until it creaked open.

“I thought you were asleep already. You weren’t answering.”

“I was distracted.” That sounded stupid, considering Nero was staring at his feet absentmindedly. “Do you need something?” Nero couldn’t figure the reason why Vergil decided to go to him and talk.

Vergil entered the room and put a package into Nero’s hands. Everything, from the shape and the consistence, told him it could be a book, and Nero’s surprise that he had just received a present from his father, mingled with the terror he gave him something like that _page turner_ he had thrown at him.

“Open it.” Nero didn’t want to raise his hopes high, but he could almost swear on his right arm ( _almost!_ ) that Vergil was nervous. “It’s a Christmas present.”

Two weeks late, but it didn’t matter. The present was indeed a book, but instead of some boring title hinting dangerous poetry inside, it was a manual on devil arms customization. Nero suddenly thought that it would be helpful to him and Nico, then his face burnt under the weight of that simple gesture.

“…I haven’t bought anything.”

“A present isn’t a favor.” Nero raised his eyes from the book and looked at Vergil. “You usually repay favors. Presents are to be accepted or refused, that’s all.”

That logic sounded cold, but Nero somehow felt an embarrassing warmth building in his stomach. “Yes, right.” He grumbled.

Vergil was still standing in front of him, his arms crossed. Nero emitted a confused hum.

“So, do you like it?”

“…yeah. It seems cool. I will read it.”

Could that be considered a beginning of father-son bonding?

***

The morning brought a bunch of challenges to Nero endurance for embarrassing and bothersome behaviors.

First, he remembered that Dante was pregnant, and he hadn’t elaborated the whole matter yet. But he wasn’t given enough time, because Dante flustered him with another present, a pair of headphones similar to the old ones he owned but lost somewhere while hunting demons. Then, he witnessed that Vergil and Dante’s relationship was truly all about fighting. Just, not the kind of fighting he expected.

Dante got pissed at Vergil because they had to give him the presents together, to which Vergil retorted that they could have, if only he hadn’t fallen asleep. Five minutes later, that small bicker was forgotten only to be replaced with a new one about Dante who was eating all the biscuits. They kept talking about it even after they left the office.

“I am pregnant, Vergil. I need food.”

“Healthy food, Dante. Don’t use this as an excuse to eat junk food.”

“You are eating that junk food as well.”

“But you are the one who must have a regular diet for the sake of the baby.”

“Don’t put the baby in it, Vergil! You just want to gobble on all the biscuits as you did when we were children.”

“I didn’t gobble on biscuits.”

“You ate them in bed and gave me the fault when mom found crumbs.”

Vergil huffed. “I have no memory of that. You are making it up.”

“Typical: it’s always me and never you.”

Nero grew up with Credo and Kyrie, but he had never experienced such an embarrassing sibling fight. Credo was older than him, and was more of a father than a brother, so the confidence didn’t step over the boundaries of a commander with his subordinate (for how Nero could speak his mind with a foul mouth); and Kyrie, well, Nero was certain she had never been into a fight with anyone in her whole life.

“Dante.” Nero raised his voice to butt into their quarrel. “Shouldn’t you be sitting on the sofa and, I don’t know, knitting or some shit instead of taking jobs?”

That was enough to catch Dante’s attention; he turned to Nero with a frown. “I’m not on my death bed, I can walk.”

“But Nero has a point, you shouldn’t be wasting energies like that.”

“Wasting…?” Dante raised his eyes. “It’s just been a month and I am walking. If we must start like this, I’ll make sure to disappear for the next nine.”

“Eight.”

“Vergil, I am two seconds from punching your nose.”

And here they were at it again. Nero renounced at any attempt of stopping them and wondered were they could go to find that cat – judging how Dante welcomed the news when Vergil told him who the client was, it wasn’t the first time they had to chase him around. But thinking about where a cat would go ended up being a waste of time, because Dante guessed Mr. Fluffle could be in the exact same spot where they found him last time, and he was right. The big white ball of fluff was looking down at the crowd like an aristocrat from the top of the same streetlamp from the last time.

Dante clapped his hands once. “Come on kitten, come down. We’re bringing you back home.” He opened his arms to welcome him, but the cat just swung his tail, looking at him like Vergil used to do when he believed he had just done an utterly idiotic thing. “Don’t make me come up there, the gentlemen behind me think it’s not a good idea.”

“Absolutely not!”

It was amusing how Nero, with a shocked snarl, and Vergil, with a severe snap of his voice, uttered the same words at the same moment, and scolded Dante with the same exact glare. From father to son, apparently.

“Okay then, rock paper scissors and you go take–” It was a strike of luck that no one was around; and probably Nero checked the surroundings before summoning his demonic wings and stretching them to catch the cat. “–him. Those things are useful.”

Mr. Fluffle hissed in fear at Nero, who wasn’t doing anything but gently holding him. “You don’t like my wings, huh? Okay, okay, I’ll–” He released the grip a bit, and the cat leaped straight on his face, scratching his forehead before Dante quickly grabbed him into his arms. “That little bitch!”

“You must be more careful with cats.” Dante pointed out.

“He scratched you last time.” Vergil recalled him.

“Yes, but now we have bonded over being bitch-slapped by Nero.”

Nero pouted. “I didn’t bitch-slap the cat!”

“Yeah, you are right. But I talked to him for a solid minute before taking him down instead of just dragging him.”

Vergil sighed. “But he still scratched you. Now, give him to me before he does that aga–” He approached Dante, and Mr. Fluffle showed his fangs, sinking deeper into Dante’s arms to use them as a shield.

Dante smiled. “Well, he likes me.” The cat proved him right trying to get into the little opening of his coat to get some warmth. “Spending the night outside has pros and cons, ain’t it, little fella?” Dante opened his coat so that Mr. Fluffle could find shelter. “Let’s go and get our money.”

They reached the house and got their money. And the cat. Ended up that the first time, the new husband of the rich lady set the cat free because he didn’t want that little scratchy monster around his house but didn’t figure his wife would actually call someone to have the jerk back. So, this time he decided to handle things on his own, and called the agency himself, welcomed Dante, Vergil and Nero, and gave them the money for the extra of making that beast disappear. Shelter or hole in the ground, he didn’t care.

“I’d scratch his shitty face as well, if I was a cat.” Nero commented on their way back.

Mr. Fluffle seemed comfortable inside Dante’s coat, creating a weird bulge on his chest, and didn’t hiss nor at Vergil nor at Nero anymore. He did at the man the very moment he opened the door and, instead of retreating as he did with Vergil and Nero, Dante had to grab him because he was throwing himself to him with his claws ready.

“I don’t like it.” Nero insisted when nor Dante nor Vergil replied. “I mean, he throws a cat away and says he will get a new one for her wife.” He wasn’t a cat type, but that sounded cruel, and the man was going to lie to his wife. “How much time before the new one becomes another hindrance to throw away?”

“That’s why the cat didn’t seem so happy the last time we brought him back.”

Vergil agreed with Dante. “Indeed.”

“And, do you want a little advice from an old man?” Dante added looking at Nero. “Do not get too involved in the jobs you get, or it’ll be true hell for you.”

On the way to the shop street, Nero didn’t say anything more about the matter, but he was definitely sulking at them. When Dante entered the baker, leaving them with the heavy bags of groceries, Nero finally exploded.

“That’s unfair! There’s nothing we can do?!”

“Not according to human rules.” Vergil sighed at Nero’s puzzled look. “Do you think Dante plays the game of the handyman through legal ways?”

“…he hunts demons.”

“And finds lost cats. Dante isn’t the hero type who goes around to clean the town, but he can’t help but pick up the trash when he sees it abandoned on the ground.”

Nero wanted to ask more, but Dante got out from the bakery announced by the clear tinkle of the little bell on the door, and he decided to focus on the bag flooding with pan au chocolat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan that Mr. Fluffle would be back, but Dante didn't plan to be pregnant, so...


	5. Dearly beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is dumb but Patty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all need to see this: https://twitter.com/NeVillivEn666/status/1250019010046873605?s=20  
> eVillivE portrayed Mr. Fluffle and lots of cute ducks and plants together with Dante :3

For having a little baby inside who wouldn’t think twice to eat his guts in case of incoming food shortage, Dante was too lively after the walk through the entire town to go to the animal shelter. Vergil was afraid he would run out of breath soon, but his brother stopped on their way back only because he was hungry, and experience taught them that it was a stimulus that had to be satisfied as soon as possible.

Nero didn’t expect to eat out with them, it was a pleasant surprise. A simple burger shop was something quite extraordinary for him, because in Fortuna there wasn’t much from the outside world and, even if there was the hotel, there weren’t so many tourists around to have a great variety of food shops around.

“They let the cat in.” Nero was confused.

“They let dogs in. Why not cats?” Dante pointed out.

They went to the animal shelter, but Mr. Fluffle probably sensed they were going to ditch him there, because there was no way to separate him from Dante’s sweater without ripping it, and his razors-like claws almost carved an eye out of the poor voluntary who tried to help them. Now, in the warmth of the shop, Mr. Fluffle seemed relaxed and confident enough to walk from Dante’s legs to Nero’s and splash his butt on his face to stretch his body.

“Hey.” Nero moved his butt away, but the cat just curled up like a big fluffy donut on his thighs and lazily closed his eyes. “I thought he despised me.” Mr. Fluffle battled against both him and Vergil when they tried to take him from Dante and throw him in the arms of the volunteer.

“He scratched me last time as well.”

“Maybe he senses your condition.” Vergil commented. “Or, simple as that, he didn’t want to stay in his old house nor in that shelter.”

Dante sighed with his face sunk in the menu. “What to do then? I’m not an old cranky man who dumps cats on the streets in winter.”

“Then wait for spring and dump him.” Vergil received a confused look in response.

Nero rose the cat from under the front paws to display him to the twins. “Why don’t you keep him?” He turned him around to take a look at his snout. “He is cute. And maybe you can take this ribbon away.” The big ribbon tied around his neck looked kinda lame.

Both Dante and Vergil frowned at him. “No way!”

“How about no?” Dante remarked. “We haven’t enough space for a third roommate.” How much space could a cat take, Nero wondered in his mind. “And I already have a cat.” Dante pointed at Vergil.

“He has white fur and blue eyes.” Nero smirked. “Doesn’t he look a bit like you two?”

“Yeah, Mr. Fluffle has definitely gotten the looks from out father.” Dante joked.

“Oh, seriously?” Nero pretended to believe his words. “Nah. He doesn’t look like a too fucking tall naked statue with wings and horns everywhere.”

Vergil looked genuinely stunned. “…what in the world?”

“Old story. One day I’ll tell you how I met Nero.” Dante reassured him.

“Wait, you mean you haven’t told him yet?” Nero couldn’t believe it.

“We were quite busy in Hell.”

Right, Vergil said the same thing yesterday, and Nero decided not to question it any further. Even if he didn’t hide he was a bit piqued, and frowned at the menu.

“Let’s see… I’m going to try this, this, this… this looks good to, this is a must, and–”

“Are you expecting a baby or a vacuum cleaner?” Nero was baffled at how much food Dante was pointing at. “I mean, wasting food isn’t good.”

“I won’t waste anything, trust me.”

And, in fact, he didn’t: not only he ordered and ate almost all the burgers on the menu, he also didn’t leave a single fry accompanying each dish and was tempted by the desserts.

“This is because yesterday you ate a little.” Vergil reprimanded him while Dante was finishing his fries as well.

“I wasn’t feeling like it.”

Nero sensed another bicker incoming and isolated himself; quite the easy task, since the cat, after resting on Vergil’s lap, decided it was his turn again. He looked at Mr. Fluffle’s snout, and he could swear he had the same insufferable cocky gleam in his eyes that Dante showed the first time they met.

***

Back to the office, they found Morrison, with a very remunerative job for them. Vergil accepted after he heard the amount without asking for any detail, leaving Dante in Nero’s care. Mr. Fluffle, for the first time, jumped down from Dante’s coat without using another pair of legs as a seat and wandered around the office. After an attentive exploration, he decided that the corner bar was the perfect spot to sit on and judge them.

“He has already made himself at home. Why don’t you just keep him?”

“Nero, we can’t keep a cat.”

“Why not?”

“Because we are barely learning how to take care of ourselves.”

“You are going to have a baby.” Nero reminded him.

Dante waved a hand at him “That’s different.”

“How?” Nero sat on the sofa and took the remote. “I won’t bring him with me.”

“Why not? He likes you.”

“Kyrie is allergic.” That was a blatant lie. He felt the cat coped with him and Vergil and utterly loved Dante, but saying it aloud sounded too embarrassing. “And I’m no good with cats.”

“I’m not either, so…” Dante grabbed the telephone. “…I’ll introduce you to someone Mr. Fluffle will definitely love.”

Considering it was Dante’s acquaintance, Nero expected that “Patty” to be another devil hunter from the rocking party. That is why Nero thought the pretty girl with short curly blond hair and wearing an elegant coat over a frilly dress got the wrong address. Dante was at the toilet and Nero had no absolute idea how to deal with clients – he took jobs by phone and met the clients only to receive money, hardly interacting more than that.

“Do you need something?” And if that something was a direction, he was sorry to tell her she needed to wait Dante finished his business with the toilet. “Are you lost?”

The girl raised her head in a perfectly outraged burst of aristocratic arrogance. “I perfectly now where I am.” She responded. “Where is Dante?”

A client. So young… so snobbish. “The toilet.”

“Figures.” Nero expected her to stand nearby the entrance or settle herself on the sofa. But she did none of that and walked around turning her head from side to side as if she was looking for something. “He tells me to hurry and come here because he has a surprise for me, and he makes me wait! I’ve gotta go to the mall with my friends, I am a busy young lady!”

“Are you Patty?”

After building the mental image of a woman who was a blend of Trish and Lady Nero’s mind crashed against the girly sturdy wall called Patty. She acted like a landlady extremely pissed off by her insolvent tenant, muttering to herself how Dante was an unreliable pain in ass. The energy she emanated in each step was so strong that Nero couldn’t bring himself to approach her in any way he was used to, so he just stood there, listening to her tantrum against Dante, bringing up Vergil somewhere in between.

“Ah! There you are!” The toilet door clicked, and Patty turned with spread legs and fists on her hips, in a commanding stance. “Dante! I told you I had no time today, but you insisted anyway! This better be the greatest of the surprises!”

“Hello to you too, Patty.” Behind Dante’s legs there was a white furry ball he took into his arms – so that was where he sneaked in, Nero thought. “This is for you. Didn’t you want a pet?”

Patty looked at the cat, so surprised that Dante remembered it that she didn’t reply immediately. Nero wondered what _she_ expected from that call.

“But Dante, I…”

“Just accept him.” Dante hold Mr. Fluffle from his body, and this showed how long the cat was. “I’m sure you two will get along.”

However, Mr. Fluffle had another opinion on the matter. Maybe, he could get along with her, by nature he was quite the friendly cat after all; but he was also clever, and realized Dante’s intentions, so, he wriggled away from his hands and leaped on his shoulders, becoming a wispy warm and alive scarf around his neck. He meowed once.

“Dante, that cat seems to want to stay here.”

“He is just putting a scene.”

As Dante tried to grab him, Mr. Fluffle jumped on the floor and scampered under the sofa, confirming Patty’s words.

She emitted a groan. “Dan-te!” She spelt in frustration, one finger pointed at Dante in a clear gesture of accusation. “I have told you I am busy today, and you wasted my time anyway!” She threw downwards both fists to vent. “And who is he?” She stretched an arm to point at Nero. “Another twin brother who doesn’t look like you?!”

“No, he is Nero, my nephew.”

The arm fell lifeless along Patty’s side. “That cold fish has found someone who willed to have sex with him?” That discovery left her almost speechless. Almost.

Dante knew Patty was unaware of his current condition and how he ended up like that, but he still felt unease, because she was indirectly accusing him of not having good tastes in men – and, well, he couldn’t really blame her, since they met twice and Vergil wasn’t exactly a nice guest.

“Well, yes, he has.”

Patty huffed from her nose and crossed her arms. “Dante, don’t fool me. Just tell me he is yours.”

“Huh, he’s not my son.”

She rolled her eyes. “He looks too pretty and gentle to be your brother’s. I mean, you aren’t that better–”

“Hey!”

“–but–“

At that, Nero butted in the conversation. “Excuse me, what?”

“ _What_ , what?”

“What have you just said? That I look…” Pretty. “…gentle?”

“Yes.” Patty threw a glance at his clothes. “You look like a nice guy who tries hard looking like a thug.”

“Wha–”

“There it is!” Patty interrupted him and glanced under her wrist, at the watch. “I’m late!” She walked in front of Nero and made a small bow, putting her left foot back and bending her knees in an old-fashioned way. “I am Patty Lowell, Dante’s partner. Nice to meet you, Nero.” The anger she threw at Dante disappeared to make room for a kind smile. “I hope we will meet again.” The moment she turned back to Dante, her eyebrows contracted again in a scowl and her posture acquired a military vibe again. “You owe me a dinner for this, Dante!”

“And why that?”

Patty went to the door. “No pizza or any cheap restaurant! I want a gourmet dinner!” She stuck her tongue out. “Bye bye!” With a wave of her hand, she run in the street.

Dante looked at Nero, quite amused at the reddish shade on his cheeks. “Hey, I thought you had Kyrie.”

“What?!” He snarled. “What do you mean?”

“Just kidding. But what’s with that face? Has anybody ever complimented on your looks before?”

“…no?”

Dante hardly believed that. “Maybe you’re too dense to notice a compliment.” His brother was, so maybe he transmitted that trait to his son as well.

“Hey!”

“Even Kyrie?”

“Yes, I think she has…” Nero froze and looked in front of him, then looked back at Dante. “…nobody has ever told me I’m pretty and gentle! They just told me…” He made big gestures with the arms. “…I am me!”

“And you are pretty and kind, apparently.” Nero pushed Dante’s arm away, but not before he patted his back once. “Oh, look who is blessing us with his presence.”

Now that Patty was gone, Mr. Fluffle exited his temporary shelter and went rubbing himself against Dante’s legs.

“Look how loud is this guy purring.” Nero bent on his knees. “You really like Dante, don’t you, tiny asshole?” The cat gave a small poke at Nero’s hand with his head, then went back to smearing his fur and scent on Dante, slithering around and between his legs. “Hah, looks like you have another fan, Dante. Nico will be jealous.”

“Who would have thought, after he scratched my hands at our very first meeting.”

“I guess he doesn’t want to be brought back to his home. And I don’t blame him, his master is a total asshole.”

Dante sighed. “Alright then, you can stay… until I find a home you like.”

“Haven’t you already found it?” Nero opened his arms and his eyes run around the office.

“Ha-ha. When it comes to humor, you are like your father, Nero.”

“I didn’t know he could joke.”

“In fact, he can’t.”

Dante noticed how Nero twitched to stop him when he bent to grab the cat, but appreciated he controlled himself and, instead doing it himself or telling him he should be careful, looked at him.

“You are stupid, you know?” Dante brought the cat at his face level. “Patty lives in a mansion, and you would be more comfortable there. She probably has an entire room ready for you.” Mr. Fluffle was more interested in licking his right paw. “I guess you just don’t care, huh?”

“This cat behaves like you.” Nero insisted.

“What?”

“I’m serious, have you taken a good look at him?”

Dante groaned. “I’ve been looking at this furry thing more than I planned to.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon watching a stupid movie and commenting how much the characters’ choices were stupid. Usually, back at home they watched cartoons, and Kyrie adored love stories; Nico obeyed blindly to Kyrie, so Nero, who didn’t spend much time at home, hardly watched what he thought he could enjoy.

“Really, she would have survived if she just told him what happened.” Dante commented.

“She would have survived if she just locked the door. Seriously!” Nero put his right leg on the left knee, pushing his back against the backseat. “Oh, come on, it’s ridiculous! He is running where the killer is!” That was the most ridiculous plot, yet, commenting it with Dante was fun.

“He is the main character, so probably the killer will trip on a ferret or whatever, and he will escape.”

“Heh, talk about plot devices. But why a ferret?”

There were about five minutes left to the end (the hero and the half-naked girl who started their life again, now as a couple, after all their friends had been brutally killed) when Vergil came back.

He took two steps and talked. “We are not going to accept any job from that woman anymore.” He stated in such a cold-blooded voice that got the attention of both Dante and Nero in mere instants.

“What happened?”

His brother has never despised humans, he just didn’t care about them. They could summon demons, turn into the most powerful creature or support his ideas from the first to the last, but in his eyes, they weren’t much more than ants crawling frantically to conduct their miserable lives – there were two or three exceptions to his general view. So, what kind of human could have shaken him to the point of extracting some actual feelings which weren’t indifference?

Dante didn’t hesitate. “Did she insult you?” That was the most plausible scenario, and he feared they had to cover a homicide.

“No.”

“Huff, that’s good news. What happened then?”

Vergil shook his head with the fingers pressed on the bridge of his nose – the memory of V doing the same before they teamed up against the knights flashed vividly in front of Nero’s eyes.

“I… had to read her intentions when she told me she expected you, but I had an interesting face and body as well. I thought she meant our physical characteristics to hunt demons.”

Dante and Nero quickly looked at each other. “Wait Vergil.” Dante had a terrible suspect. “What else has she said?”

Vergil huffed. “She pretended she had troubles with a demon infesting her house. Which wasn’t, of course, true. She talked a little about the effects of the demons, and everything was _of course_ confusing, because there was no demon to produce any effect whatsoever on her house.” His grip on Yamato tightened. “She asked me if I was married, and if I liked women with features like hers. The trivial useless chats of humans.”

“Trivial?” Dante knew who he had to blame.

“Trish called them like this.” Bingo.

Nero was stunned. “That’s not trivial.” He lowered his voice and muttered to Dante. “How much does he know about human behavior?”

“Not much, really. Vergil–” Dante stood up and got closer to him “–are you telling me this client has, you now, hit on you?”

“Her intentions cleared when she lied on the bed and asked me to fuck her senseless.” Dante was about to say something dangerously similar to a joke, when Vergil continued. “I had to imagine what her true colors were the moment she started walking naked around the house.”

Nero wanted to laugh, but he was too shocked at how much Vergil proved to be dense to do anything else which wasn’t staring at him with his mouth open. He closed it the moment the cat’s wet nose touched his hand and awakened him from his dumbfounded contemplation.

“…I’m hungry.” Nero said without sounding natural at all. “What’s for dinner?”

***

Nero was on the bed, looking at the ceiling, tired, yet uncapable of falling asleep. His body was demanding some rest due to the emotions thrown at them during the day, but his mind was working at full speed. All the thoughts mixed together in a mingle, like painted colors fusing together and almost impossible to tell apart. He emitted a frustrated groan and turned on his side; his eyes fell on the book he left on the chair. Nero stood up, took it and went back to bed.

There wasn’t any small light in the room, and he didn’t want to turn on the big one, so he resorted to the feeble light coming from the streetlamp. It wasn’t good for reading, but enough for checking the figures – sometimes he missed his arm; he had learnt how to summon enough power to light it, and it would come at handy now.

Somehow, Nero couldn’t believe Vergil bought him a present. Actually, he couldn’t believe to whatever happened in the last thirty hours. Dante, a man, was pregnant with Vergil’s son, meaning that them, siblings, had sex: according to human moral, there were at least a couple of things not right in the whole situation. But Nero could somehow set that aside, because Dante and Vergil (and him) weren’t completely humans, so many human things were senseless to them. Kyrie often told him he was human, and sometimes it sounded like an ominous memento (you shouldn’t astray from the human path!), but Nero couldn’t find the strength to share with her that side of his thoughts which were absolutely more demon-like, free from common boundaries, and just smiled at her.

Nero shook Kyrie away from his thoughts and went back to the main topic: he was going to have a sibling. The idea per se made his heart drum in joy; he had two siblings, Kyrie and Credo, but Credo turned into a third parent after the death of his adoptive parents, and with Kyrie he had never experienced the complicity he believed existed between a brother and a sister. Nero was afraid he had never considered Kyrie as a support – and he was pretty sure that Kyrie opened up more to Nico than to him, as Nico let slip more than once very suspicious pieces of information (Nero had never had the intention of investigating it further).

So, he was going to have a little brother or a little sister. And this little creature would experience all the love Vergil was capable of. That association, Vergil and love, sounded so strange that Nero forced himself to chuckle, but it didn’t work much to suppress the raising worry weighing on his stomach.

Holy shit, he thought leaning down on the bed, he was jealous of a thing that now was probably not bigger than a little bean. A little bean that would have a father and a mother from the beginning, a family, and who probably wouldn’t face the same struggles which made Nero’s childhood his personal living hell – he was mocked and hit and belittled and left alone only because his hair were different and his behavior didn’t adapt to what the Order wanted.

However, he told himself looking at the pages of the book, if Vergil had enough love for a little bean (he had some somewhere under that poker ass face, right?), maybe he had some spare love for him. Dante had some for him, or at least, that was what Nero read in his gestures, and it was enough. But maybe Vergil as well had a tiny bit, even if less than Dante. Or he wouldn’t have bought that book, which looked boring even if it was about weapons –really, choosing boring books was definitely of one Vergil’s skills–, or kept asking him if he wanted more tomato salad, because Nero said during lunch he liked tomatoes, and Vergil prepared so much tomato salad that even Dante, who ate for two people, couldn’t finish it.

Maybe, and it was a huge maybe sugarcoated in too much hope, Vergil loved him (a little), but being stuck in Hell for ages (according to Lady and Trish) didn’t hone his skills in social interactions – that may actually be a family trait, because Nero didn’t consider himself a pro in interacting with humans, and he suspected Dante was just very good at pretending and acting, but sucked in social relationships like Nero did.

Nero groaned and turned around, confused by his own feelings. He was happy but also jealous because of his future sibling. He was happy but also worried because he didn’t know what Vergil thought of him. What if he just behaved because Dante told him to? Oh, the worse-case scenario: Nero would never forgive Dante if it was true. He would rather have Vergil openly telling him he didn’t care.

“Enough!”

He slammed the book closed to shut his toxic thoughts and regretted it. The clap echoed in the room, and he was sure that Dante and Vergil’s fine ears caught the noise. If he woke them up, Nero would personally dig with his very own hands (demonic and not) the hole to bury himself in. Normally, he wouldn’t mind, but now he was afraid that if someone was to face at the door, may it be Dante or Vergil, his thoughts would be revealed at the first glance.

Nero tended the ear trying to catch any sign that Dante or Vergil heard him. In the silence, Nero heard the far coughs of some man from the street, the slow buzz of the streetlamp, and some steps coming from the outside and which quickly faded away.

He heard a muffled voice coming from inside the house (shop? office?). Were they still awake? Nero wasn’t sure of it, but he thought he heard Dante saying “Stop”; he sounded amused, he was laughing. Then, his voice broke in an extremely delighted moan, and Nero realized in the snap of a second. With his face burning, he curled up into the duvet and covered his head under the pillow. Among all the family experiences he missed in his life due to bad circumstances, hearing his parents going at it wasn’t in the list.

***

“Hey Vergil.”

Dante knew Vergil was awake. Not because he was breathing differently or some shit coming from movies or book. But they were twins, and, despite all the years apart, they physically understood each other better than anyone else. Vergil was the closest he could be to being nervous, and Dante had a hunch of what was making his gears spinning so fast he almost heard him brain working.

“Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine.” Dante sat down and leant against the bedpost. “I think tomorrow you could go to the station with Nero.”

“I have a job.”

“ _We_ have a job. And I will ask Trish to accompany me.”

“Dante, you can’t–”

“I will have a nice breakfast and bring plenty of food with me.”

Dante wasn’t trying to convince him, because he had already made up his mind, and Vergil knew there was no way he could make him desist.

“I thought you were going with him.”

“I’ve spent enough time with Nero, it’s your turn now. I’m sure he will be happy to stay some more with you.”

“If you want to do this job so bad, then it can’t be helped. You are stubborn.”

Somehow, Dante guessed that Vergil wanted to try building a sort of relationship with Nero. The base wasn’t good: he was the deadbeat father who didn’t know about his existence, who didn’t even suspect Nero could be his own son after cutting his arm to retrieve Yamato and who tricked him into having his plan done. But Dante watched their fight very carefully and noticed that while Vergil during their fight was a deadly cold killing machine, he turned his attacks in dull hits when he fought Nero. Vergil wasn’t good at expressing his feelings as a child and he definitely brought that trait along with him until the present days: he liked Nero but had no idea how to show him.

Dante knew how much time Vergil spent in that book shop, wondering what Nero could like – he had to update his brother on what young people liked, though. He noticed he was stiffer than usual and acted like a robot who was given few guidelines. Nero liked tomatoes? Fill his plate with tomatoes. Nero felt more comfortable with Dante? Then leave them alone, instead of trying to build a father-son relationship.

“He is your son after all. It’s normal wanting to spend some time together.”

“And what should we do? Walk in the park and eat some ice cream after watching a movie?”

“That’s more like a date, but it could work.” Dante admitted. “I’m sure Nero would be cool if you wanted to fight him. I mean, don’t you have a score to settle?”

Vergil reacted immediately, as if Dante had just pressed his index on a cut. “I let him win, and the Qliphoth was getting in the way.” He stated with a cold voice. “He isn’t that bad, but he has a long way before he can defeat me.”

“Are you sure? Then I probably fell asleep and dreamt of him kicking your ass, because–” Dante laughed at Vergil’s attempt to shut him up smashing his lips against his mouth. “You just don’t want to admit you lost and– Hey no, it’s not fair!”

The long tail sprouted from Vergil’s back and blocked him in a sweet embrace. Dante turned his head and smiled. “It’s not fair, you’re being a bully because you have a tail and I don’t.” Vergil was already taking his pants off. “No foreplay?”

Dante clearly heard Vergil chuckling into his ear, and his hands crawled under the hem of his sweater. His fingers slightly traced his belly, plump and soft, in a tender gesture that was enough to Dante to bask in that sweet sensation of protection and lower his attention. He sank his head in the pillow and took a deep breath: Vergil’s tail was coarse and suitable for battle, not for cuddles, yet he felt reassured whenever his brother embraced him with it.

“Ah!” The moment Vergil pinched his hip, Dante tried to wriggle away, but the tail quickly brought him back in place. “Vergil…” The tips of the fingers tickled his skin. “S-stop!” He burst into laughter. “Stop!” He laughed out.

Vergil, of course, didn’t stop. With one hand he kept teasing his hips, and with the other he groped Dante’s legs, sliding his fingers between his thighs. The moment he rubbed his pussy, Dante’s laughs melted into a delighted loud moan.

Dante sighed. “Nero is going to hear us.”

“In this case…” Vergil gently nibbled his ear. “…I suggest you seal your pretty lips, little brother.” Dante was always earnest in his reactions, and his body was responding already to those slight attentions. “Unless you want to wake Nero.”

Vergil didn’t know Nero hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and he wouldn’t for quite a long time.

***

The train was going to arrive in ten minutes, and Vergil and Nero managed to stay silent during the whole path from the office to the railway station and in the waiting room as well. Nero, sprawled on the chair, was pretending he was interested in the timetable (he read it three times); Vergil had his legs elegantly crossed one on top the other and was looking in front of him.

They had plenty of time to talk, but Nero was letting the fearful thought of Vergil not wanting to be there with him digging its way deep into his mind. Moreover, Nero had too many things he wanted to ask Vergil, but he didn’t know where to start, so he simply stayed silent – and every time he was about to talk, his mind reminded him that night, for a good hour, he heard the faint sounds of them having sex, blocking any possible attempt of formulating any thought which wasn’t related to a deadly desire of forgetting everything. Nero’s silence strengthened Vergil belief that he would have rather been there with Dante.

When the train was announced, both stood up at the same time and waited, in silence, on the platform.

“Well… see you around.” Nero greeted Vergil without being able to suffocate the lingering shame; from the outside, his wandering eyes gave the impression he didn’t want to be there, and Vergil believed it was because of him.

“Yes.” The train stopped, the doors opened, some people got off, Nero climbed on the first step. “When are you coming back?”

Nero turned to Vergil. “What?”

“When are you dropping by the office again? We can prepare something in advance.”

“Huh… no idea. I think I’ll be busy for a while with my job and such…” Nero massaged the back of his head: how surprising that Vergil almost seemed like he wanted him to be back. “Well, the train is leaving, so…” He waved his hand and disappeared in the corridor.

Two seconds later, his head popped back. “You could come to Fortuna, in case…” He held his breath.

Vergil slightly nodded. “Yes. I think I remember how to reach it.”

Nero exhaled all his tension away. “If not, just call.” Silence. “You can call me.” Maybe there was no need to remark the concept. “Whenever you want.” And that was totally unnecessary and embarrassing.

The door closed on the last sentence, which sounded a bit like a plea. Nero looked through the small window carved in the door Vergil getting smaller and smaller as the train left the station, until he became a tiny dot and disappeared.

Nero went straight to his seat and sank into it with a noisy sigh. He wondered if Vergil or Dante would really call him. He didn’t know. Rustling into the bag to look for the ticket, he felt the book under his fingers. He checked the first chapter quickly, then closed it. But then, after few minutes, he took it out again and started reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't decide if I've made Vergil too dumb or not dumb enough.


	6. Watermelon for Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante bought ribbons, Vergil bought chocolates.

Dante didn’t know how the others would react to the news of his pregnancy, but he could picture some probable scenarios, which turned out to be very close to the truth. Trish didn’t mind it, because she was a demon and had seen so much shit during her life that Dante being pregnant would fall among the most normal events. Lady was human, but when she was a teenager her life was flipped upside down by her own father and dipped into a bowl filled with Hell and demons, so she reacted more or less like Trish did, but was a bit more interested in the mechanics, considering male humans usually weren’t able to give birth to a baby.

Morrison, well, he was the first one to know, when, for the second time, it was Vergil who took on a job and not Dante. Instead of letting Dante handle things, Vergil dropped the bomb after Morrison wondered why Dante was sitting out so many gigs. For five long seconds, Morrison looked at Dante; then, he took a bottle of whiskey out of a paper bag, showed it to them, and put it back. “I guess this one won’t suited here for some time then.” And that was his reaction to it – working cheek to cheek with Dante had definitely immunized him from any incredible circumstance that could happen around him, maybe a bit too much for a human (Lady at least had her good ten minutes of incredulity before she gave up to the truth).

“Have you told Patty?”

The amount of days Lady casually dropped by the office per week, mysteriously increased. Usually, in two weeks, if Dante met her once if he was lucky, considering Lady took over jobs from all over the world. Now, in three days, she dropped by the office twice already.

“Not yet.”

“Don’t wait too much. I guess in few months you won’t be able to explain your belly just with an excess of pizza.”

Despite the roundness of the belly, Dante’s waist was still of a normal size, and a large sweater was enough to hide his current status. Only problem was that he lacked large sweaters, and wearing one for too long without washing it pissed Vergil off more than eating all his biscuits.

“I’ll tell her next time.”

“I wonder when this next time will be… by the way, what’s with that furball? She’s been glaring at me since I stepped in.”

The moment Lady stepped in, Mr. Fluffle escaped on the top of the almost empty shelf (Vergil was doing his best to slowly fill it with books) and stared down on her for the whole time without missing a single step. He did the same with Trish and Morrison, but they didn’t care about him as much as Lady was doing.

“She is a he. Unless he has changed sex overnight.”

“Then why the pink ribbon?”

“It’s from their ex owners, and it’s ruined.” Dante grabbed his coat. “That’s why I’m gonna buy him a new one.”

“Wow, this pregnancy has turned you into a good mom already.”

“Mr. Fluffle must look the best he can, if he wants to find a family who will take care of him. Right, Mr. Fluffle?” The cat replied with a single loud meow before bouncing down from the shelf to Dante’s shoulder.

“You should also change his name.” She pointed out. “Wow, despite being a chonky cat, he is quite elegant when he moves.” Lady took her coat as well. “I wanna see this one. I’m coming with you.”

Lady didn’t ask Dante why he knew where to buy the perfect ribbon for a cat, mostly because, during those years, she had learnt that somehow Dante knew what he knew because he was Dante, and that was enough.

The shop was an explosion of frilly pastel colors, a small reign which would make Patty happy – and Lady didn’t exclude the chance Patty knew about that place. The shop keeper was a cute woman wearing a cute pastel dress with her hair cutely modeled into two low braids decorated with many pearls and hearts. She didn’t question why an old man was holding a furry cloud wearing a pink ribbon. There was a whole shelf for ribbons, divided by shades which gradually changed into another color to form a rainbow, with a bonus column with the shiny glittery versions.

“Grab a blue one.” Lady suggested to make it quick: she wanted to get out and grab a coffee.

“But pink suits him better.”

“Then pink.”

“Which one?”

“Dante, I won’t wait ages again like the last time you had to buy a new coat.” That time, Lady believed she would decompose, after two hours Dante was stuck choosing between two coats.

“Hey, you chose to come with me!”

“And I’m regretting every second of it. I h that since it wasn’t for you, you would be faster.” Lady huffed. “Let the cat choose.”

Dante didn’t think that was a bad idea. Lady couldn’t tell how Dante understood which meow meant Mr. Fluffle liked a particular ribbon and which meant he disliked it, but since the cat was considerably faster than Dante in choosing his wardrobe, she didn’t question it. In less than twenty minutes, they were at the register with five brand new ribbons for Mr. Fluffle: pink, light blue, purple, red and a black one which seemed patterned with white polka-dots but, at a closer inspection the white dots were little ducks silhouettes.

“How did you even find that lame ribbon?” Lady commented.

“Don’t talk to me about lame wearing those boots.” Dante chuckled at her and received a stuck-out tongue.

“Don’t make me remind you how you were dressed when you went in Fortuna.”

Five minutes later, Lady was enjoying her coffee and looking at the unusual show of Dante putting a ribbon on a cat. The ribbon was even bigger than Mr. Fluffle’s head and it almost looked like a halo.

“Couldn’t you have put the blue one? So people will know he is a male.”

“But pink it’s his color, right little fella?” Mr. Fluffle stroked his head against Dante’s palm, and Dante rubbed his fur. “Yes, you will definitely find someone who wants to keep you.”

Lady hummed. “May I say something?”

“It’s not like you won’t if I say no.”

“Why don’t you keep him?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’s just that the office isn’t so big. And the child and everything else… we are still figuring things out and can’t add more stuff.”

Lady shrugged. “If you ask me, you’ve strangely done well so far.” She made loud noises with the straw in the attempt of catching the last drops of coffee.

“Hey!”

After Dante devoured enough slices which could compose half of a cake, the part two of his simple straightforward plan began: looking for some people who could take with them Mr. Fluffle and raise him well. Of course, Dante wasn’t so naïve to believe that he would find a suitable family straight away, so, he didn’t give up after the first two families slammed the door on his face and the third one threw a bottle after him and Lady, believing they were trying to sell something ( _Again! I work at night!_ , the man yelled going for one of his slippers to throw next).

“Dante…” Lady lost her patience at their fourth attempt. “…why don’t you leave the cat to the shelter? That’s how cats are adopted! Through-the-damn-shelter!”

“He doesn’t want to stay there.”

“Then just keep him!”

“I’ve already told you I can’t!”

They crossed the road, and a person in front of a shop blocked their way to give them some little chocolates to taste. “The perfect present for Valentine’s day.” He repeated the same tantrum Dante and Lady had been hearing the whole afternoon: they probably looked like a couple, and they got along with it so they could taste some chocolate for free.

“What are you doing for Valentine’s day?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously? Not a restaurant or even a fast food?”

“Why should I do something?”

“Well, now you have a boyfriend.” Lady stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her eyes looking with shock in front of her. “Oh no, this makes me your spinster friend.”

“That would be Trish. You are my nosey friend.” He ignored her tiny glare. “What about that one from before the Qliphoth incident?”

“I disappeared for a whole month, remember? And he was quick to find another one.”

“I thought you hooked on the woman that night.”

Lady chuckled. “No, he came later. She was a one-night stand, unfortunately.” She sighed, lost in the memory of that wonderful night. “For a second I seriously doubted she was human. She could do wonders with her mouth.”

“Why don’t you go look again for her?”

“I haven’t seen her at the pub so far. But it’s also true that I haven’t been hanging out there much myself.”

Two free tastes of chocolate later, they rang at promising door. The young woman who opened looked nice and frail; at least, she maybe wouldn’t throw anything massive at them, unless she was a demon in disguise. Lady was already thinking that they could finally settle that matter, when Dante turned his back and walked away without replying to the woman’s gentle greeting. Lady waved a hand at the woman, confused by what had just happened, and chased Dante down the stairs of the alley.

“Dante, what’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t like her.”

“Why? She does look nice!”

“Something smells fishy.”

“Huh, your armpits?” Lady guessed. “Or have you found a new perfume?”

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t sensed it?”

“She isn’t a demon, if you ask me.”

Dante shook his head. “Oh no, she is definitely human.” Instead of walking straight to take the way back to the city center, he turned right, on the side where they could partially see through the windows of the house. It was difficult to guess what the nice woman was complaining about, but now, protected by the privacy of her house and not aware of a curtain not completely pulled, she didn’t seem so nice anymore, while yanking the arm of a little girl who probably was her daughter. The girl raised the other arm to cover her face while the mother dragged her into another room.

In the heavy silence that unfortunate scene left, Mr. Fluffle slightly raised his head to softly poke it under Dante’s chin.

“Yes, not the best choice.” Dante scratched his head. “I didn’t buy a new ribbon to put you into such a house.”

“You know what?” Lady gently slapped Dante’s right elbow. “I liked the chocolate from that shop with the huge heart in the window. Let’s go back and buy me some.”

“What? Why should I buy it?”

“As an apology for dragging me around pointlessly.”

“Pointlessly? I’ve just run out of luck, as always. Tomorrow I will definitely find a family for him.”

Lady rolled her eyes. She wondered if she should bet on Dante keeping the cat with him: it would be a safe win, after all.

***

On the February 15th, Dante got out of the bathroom, fresh of shave and shower, and found a pretty box of chocolate on the desk. Mr. Fluffle, who still hadn’t found a suitable family, was sniffing a corner of it while Vergil, sitting on Dante’s chair ( _again_ , Dante thought), was holding the receiver in silence and poking the cat’s nose: each time Vergil booped him, Mr. Fluffle shook himself and went back to his inspection. As a result, the black and white ribbon was hanging from one side, instead of staying behind his head.

The moment Dante sat on the desk, Mr. Fluffle lost any interest he had in the box, and climbed on his legs. He remained tame while Dante adjusted his ribbon. Dante pointed at his own ear, silently asking Vergil who he was talking with, even if he had a slight idea from the female buzzing he could hear; his brother didn’t grasp the question and frowned in a slight confusion, so, Dante pointed at the receiver, and Vergil turned it to him, letting Nico’s voice flow out freely.

“…and then I told Nero _Hey dude! It’s Valentine! You better do better than a simple box of chocolates!_ ” Dante knew his brother well enough to grasp even the slightest reaction coming from him, but he didn’t know why Nico mocking Nero via telephone to his father could make him go rigid in worry like that. “But then you know what Nero told me?” Nico stopped to huff out a puff of smoke, both heard her exhale. “He turned around, put on the face he believes is threatening but it’s kinda cute if you ask me… oh hey, don’t tell Nero I told you that!” She warned Vergil. “By the way, what was I saying? Oh yeah! Nero turned to me and said _It’s not a simple box of chocolates, because I bought it for her._ And, wow, that’s a cliché-pink-porn-mag sentence, even if I believe Nero doesn’t read cliché-pink-porn-mag, buuuuut, that was pretty cool for a lame flat-ass like your son. He is growing.” She chuckled. “Slowly, but, yeah, some hair is definitely growing around that little brother between his legs.”

“Didn’t you call Nero yesterday?” Dante asked right before Vergil could put the receiver back to his ear, and, of course, Nico freaked out.

“Oh fuck it!” Her voice lost all the self-confidence. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to be this rude mister Dante, sir!” Dante still couldn’t understand how she was such a fan of himself simply because her grandmother gave him Ebony and Ivory (after all, Nell crafted all kind of weapons and many other people were still using them); he still didn’t know how to react to that. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for so loooong! But I was afraid to disturb you, I mean, such a great hunter like you is definitely always busy, right?”

Vergil raised an eyebrow to Dante, and he shrugged.

“By the way, it’s not like I wanted to talk to you because I’m a stalker or something, no no!” Nico hurried to point out. “I’ve just created a new weapon which would be perfect for you, sir, even better than Doc Faust! Next time little pimp Nero will get there, I’ll tell him to bring it to you! Last time I was still adding the last touches to turn it into a masterpiece and–”

“Nico.” Dante’s voice alone, not severe nor loud, just his normal voice was enough to stop her train of words. “Huh…” Dante didn’t expect her to go silent so suddenly, so he himself remained speechless. “…if you come here, we won’t kick you out.” That _we_ slipped from his mouth before he could think about it. _We_ as in him and Vergil, the family living under that roof; it felt natural saying it aloud.

There was a brief moment of silence before the explosion. “REALLY??!” Dante and Vergil backed at the same time for the intensity of that shriek. “Oh, oh shit, I didn’t mean to be this rude mister Dante.” Nico chuckled nervously. “I mean, I usually am this rude, but just with Nero and–”

“Nico.” Dante stopped her again; calling her name seemed to be effective. “Just call me Dante, it’s fine.”

From the incoherent sounds coming from the receiver, Nico was probably hyperventilating, but whether she passed out or not, Dante and Vergil couldn’t tell, because Nero’s voice suddenly took Nico’s place.

“Hey, Dante. What’s going on?”

“It’s me.” Vergil put the receiver against his ear, and Dante could just grasp few words from Nero. “Yes, I have noticed your friend has a totally different reaction when it comes to my brother.” He nodded. “How was your day?” He waited for the answer. “Getting rid of small fries shouldn’t be a big deal for you.” He nodded again. “Very good. Have a nice Saint Valentine’s day. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

Dante was rubbing Mr. Fluffle head, who showed his appreciation by purring so loud that he sounded like an electric supply. “You spoke more with Nico than with Nero.”

“Nico told me everything about the job they have just finished, so I just briefly checked on Nero.”

“Are you his boss?” Dante shook his head. “And even if you don’t call him every day, I think it’s fine.”

“Nero told me I could call him.”

“Every day?”

“He hasn’t specified it.”

Dante shrugged with a faint “Okay.” and kicked the chair “Move, that’s my spot.”

“And who decided that?”

“My office, my chair.” Dante grabbed the box of chocolates. “Did you buy it?”

“Yes. There’s been a sale on chocolate and those looked good.”

“Saint Valentine’s remnants.”

They didn’t buy chocolate. Actually, Dante was busy with Lady in a mission, and Vergil accepted a job in another town, so, when they came back, they went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately. So, no Saint Valentine for them in any way possible: no dinner, no chocolate, no sex.

“Dante, don’t open them.” Vergil snatched the box from his hands. “You will ruin your appetite. After dinner.”

“I never ruin my appetite!”

Mr. Fluffle didn’t like much that quarrel, so he jumped down from Dante’s legs and went perching on the top of the shelf, his favorite spot, from where he could control the whole office. Vergil stood up and went locking the chocolates somewhere in the kitchen. Of course, when he was back, he found Dante sitting on the chair, smug and satisfied.

Dante thought Vergil wanted to take the book on the desk, so, he was surprised when he knelt between his legs. “Have you closed the door?” Dante asked slightly raising his hips when Vergil grasped the hems of his trousers and underwear.

“I have.”

Vergil made his clothes slid down his legs in a slow motion and, bit by bit, he kissed his inner thighs to the knee, grabbed his right calf and raised his leg to kiss his instep. An act of servitude, but for Vergil it was a declaration of his intent to devour him completely; his lips slightly brushed against his skin, and his wild eyes glimmered of lust. Vergil didn’t interrupt the eye contact and kissed back the trail up Dante’s leg.

Ah, Dante was weak when his brother was so slow and gentle with him. Nothing more than wait turned on as an impatient man as him: Vergil brushed his soft lips on his knee, and Dante was already aroused. He felt himself getting wetter the more his brother was closed to the yearned goal. Dante put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it, tilting his head back when the tongue slid near his groin and some locks of hair tickled his pussy.

“Vergil.” He moaned his name in delight when the tender tongue touched his labia.

Then someone knocked at the door twice, but it felt like the whole wall was crashed, breaking the little bubble where only them existed and kicking them back to reality. Dante pushed Vergil under the desk and dragged the chair so he could hide his naked lower half as well. In that exact moment, an old priest entered the office.

“…I guess I haven’t closed it.”

Dante heard Vergil’s mutters and kicked some part of him, probably the arm. His heart had never pounded in his chest so fast in years, and he was grateful that the priest was intimidated by the corpse of the demon impaled in the wall near the bar angle and it took him ten whole seconds to pull himself together, so Dante could gain again control over his pulsations.

“Good afternoon.” He greeted him. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

The priest shook his head; he had a huge lucid bald spot at the exact center surrounded by a crown of gray hair. “A man named Morrison told me you could help us with our problem.”

“Us?”

“Our church. We are a small town, but each of our inhabitants are respectful people.”

Dante knew that tune: blame the demons if anything happened, because humans are always innocent and pure. He was biased against priests, but he didn’t have a good history with them either to not be wary of their words. After a handful of seconds of silence, Dante signed him with the right hand to continue.

“Oh, yes yes…” The priest had an old bag in his hands and he was holding it with such strength that his knuckles were white. “…actually, I am afraid that one of our fellow citizens may have… fallen into temptation.”

Dante held back a chuckle. But he was forced to let out a cough if he didn’t want the priest to hear his moan. Under the desk, Vergil blocked his legs open with his tail –Dante felt the coils slithering along his calves and clenching on the knees– and his fingers were tapping his pussy as if it magically turned into a piano keyboard.

The priest was too focused to avoid any inappropriate word but be clear anyway in conveying his story to notice Dante shifting uncomfortably on the chair in the attempt of getting far from his brother’s mouth, but he couldn’t escape his tongue. He bent on the desk, clenching his fists while gulping down another moan and ripped a piece of paper from the notes and grabbed a pen.

“So…” Dante slightly raised his voice and took a deep breath to cover the sound of Vergil’s lips snapping as he kissed his pussy with the same passion he would with his mouth. “…you all believe this young woman spent some quality time with a demon.”

The priest wrinkled his nose because of the choice of words, but it was the only expression of his disappointment. “…yes. We are sure of it.”

“And…” Vergil stopped, and Dante was relieved to the point he relaxed more than he should do. “…you are sure of that because of what?”

The priest gave out a tiny “Hem.” Before asking “Excuse me, but what do you mean?”

“Well, have you personally seen the girl doing what you are saying she did, or…” Vergil’s index slid in him too easily, and Dante had to call all his self-control to ignore how much he liked it and wanted to raise both legs on the desk so his brother had full room to eat and finger him at the same time. “…has anyone witnessed the act?”

Dante finished by exhaling his breath mingled with a moan, because Vergil added the middle finger and was rubbing his clit with the thumb, sending sinful shivers up his spine. However, the priest didn’t notice how Dante slightly arched his back, he was too busy making the cross sign before joining his hands in a quick request of forgiveness to God, and his eyes flipped to the ceiling – it was fun that he was more or less looking towards their room, where almost each night Dante and Vergil got busy in acts that would probably kill on the spot such an old-fashioned prude man if he was to hear them.

“No no! Absolutely not!” He sounded indignant. “In our town nobody would ever indulge in such an indecent action! Moreover…”

_ Except the girl _ , _apparently,_ Dante was about to say, making sure that the priest would stay at the office longer than anyone in the room actually wanted to. Luckily, Vergil’s long fingers were pushing deep inside his swollen pussy, and for an instant his mind flickered off, drowning in the warmth pooling in his groin. The pen falling on the floor snapped him back into reality.

“…and that’s why we think, well, that what I told you happened.”

Dante didn’t listen to the first part, but he didn’t mind so much. All he had to do was investigate, find the demon (if there was one), and kill it. End of the story.

“Alright then.” His voice sounded a bit harsh. “You’ve already talked the payment out with Morrison, I assume.” The priest nodded. “I’ll make sure to come...” Vergil tasted him slowly with his tongue, as if he was a juicy ice cream, and Dante clenched his hands on the edge of the desk. “…as soon as possible.” He concluded with a thin voice.

“Your face is getting red, are you okay?” The priest seemed genuinely concerned.

“It’s quite hot in here.” But the man didn’t take his coat off. “We are settled then.” Dante pointed at the door with his right hand, politely asking him to leave. Yet, the priest first grabbed it with both hands and slightly shook it.

“Thank you. You are a good holy man.” If Dante wasn’t two seconds from groaning like a slut in heat, he would definitely chuckle instead of giving the man a pained smile. “It is God who brought you to us.”

“Y-yeah.” With the mind trotting blank, Dante nodded. “It’s the closing hour now, so…”

“Oh yes, my bad!”

It took twenty endless seconds for the priest to stand up, adjust his coat and find the hat he clumsily made fall on the floor before he left the office. In the same moment the door closed, Dante grabbed Vergil’s hair and forced him to stop his snack and raise his head. “So you closed the door, huh?”

Vergil went out from his hideout and loosened the tail around Dante’s legs. “I didn’t remember correctly.”

“Yeah, noticed. Go close it before another client butts in.”

Dante wasn’t surprised by the blue energy Vergil summoned, but he wondered why he was doing it, instead of using his long (sexy) legs to get to the door. The light detached from him maintaining his shape and features, from the clothes to the hairstyle, and walked to the door to close it; his task being concluded, it disappeared.

“Now you can use that asshole without being in devil form?”

“I’ve learnt one trick or two along the way.” He gently slithered the tail around Dante’s waist and torso. He avoided the belly, touching it from behind with one hand. “Now, let’s take from where we stopped.”

Dante bended forward on the desk, the thick tail preventing any unwanted hit on his stomach. “When we stopped, you had some fingers in me and was putting your tongue at a better use than talking.”

Vergil leaned his body on him, and Dante felt his hard dick rubbing against him through the trousers. “I can think of something much better than my fingers.” Vergil kissed his neck and unzipped his trousers.

“My fingers?” Dante’s laugh turned into a satisfied cry as Vergil slowly buried himself into his pussy.

***

Usually their night routine was sex, Dante in the toilet, then Vergil, then Dante again and by the time he was back he found Vergil reading. Vergil adjusted the nightlamp so that its rays were directed more to his side, and Dante could peacefully snuggle at him and fall asleep against his hip. Usually, when Vergil decided it was enough reading for the day and tucked himself in, Dante didn’t move of an inch.

It had been few days before Valentine’s Day that Dante woke up during the night and went downstairs to steal one or two biscuits. Vergil noticed it one night only because Mr. Fluffle woke up and thought Dante was there to play; his excitement was so high that he leaped on the counter, accidentally pushing on the floor the glass of milk – Dante played with him a little before returning to bed, and allowed him to follow his steps and go curl at their feet to sleep all together.

That night, Vergil opened his eyes around 3 am because he heard a metallic clank coming from downstairs, and he found Dante fully dressed, with the guns hanging from the belt, and apparently ready for a hunt.

“Where are you going in the middle of the night?” He reprimanded him.

“I’m going to get some watermelon.”

Vergil’s eyes were itching because of the early wake and he stroked them. “What?”

“I want to eat watermelon.”

“I heard.” Vergil frowned. “Dante, it’s February.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Watermelon grows in summer.”

Dante clapped his hands twice. “Congrats bro, I needed you to tell me!” He sounded cranky and pissed off. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

“Dante–”

“I’m gonna ask Morrison where I can buy some. He knows everything.”

Vergil stood between him and the door. “I guess he will be more than happy to tell you after you will wake him in the middle of the night.” He raised his voice. “Don’t be foolish. There’s no way you can find any watermelon in this town, at this hour and in this season.”

He was afraid Dante would burst out in irritation, because his chest seemed swollen under the breath he inhaled to ignite the explosion of words. But instead, Dante sighed his frustration out, his bad mood deflated, and he looked like a sad child whose ice cream fell on the ground. Not more intimidating, but almost cute.

“But… I really want some watermelon. Even a tiny bit is fine…”

Vergil knew when Dante acted cute and sad to get something. It was a weapon he used a lot when they were children and he used it few times with him at that age as well (it almost worked each time, but Vergil managed to resist). However, this wasn’t a puppy eyes case, Vergil could tell Dante was genuinely gloomy and he wasn’t thinking of moving him into doing what he wanted.

“…I’m using Yamato to go get some.”

Usually Dante, who despised having portals opened here and there, would absolutely reject such a proposal – back in Hell, when they decided to go back to the human world, Dante made clear they had to open the portal and close it in a safe zone, to lower the risk of having any demon taking advantage of the rip shaking the barrier between the two worlds. Now, his eyes gleamed of a renewed hope, and he definitely wasn’t thinking about keeping humanity safe.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah… you’ll have your watermelon.”

Five minutes later, at many kilometers of distance, Nero was hoping for whoever was calling him in the middle of the night that it was an emergency on a position not inferior to the end of the world, if that someone wanted to keep living. He grabbed the received and replied with a voice coming directly from the underworld, which would make the mightiest of the demons shiver in fear.

“Who’s calling at this hour? It’s–” He stopped, because he didn’t know what time it was, he only knew it was still night and he was tired and wanted to sleep instead of answering the call of some jackass. “–it’s night!”

“Nero.” Vergil ignored that his son’s voice could kill him via telephone. “Tell me which countries have watermelons in February.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That priest should bathe in holy water for a week.


	7. Partners in secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante throws an exclusive pajama party.

Spring was approaching fast, still two weeks to go before flowers could officially start sprouting – even if they had been hanging around since February, Vergil noticed with a hint of surprise, but it was just the changing of the seasons, Dante replied. They put the coats back in the wardrobe and took out lighter jackets and more t-shirts; Dante was afraid his belly would start showing soon, but he still looked like a healthy old man who ate a bit too much pizza, and not an old pregnant man with a balloon attached to his stomach.

The days together passed by without any particular event upsetting their daily routine, and their only worry was if the pregnancy would proceed more or less like a human one. The watermelon episode was an isolated one, and Vergil, after cutting his way through Hell, was almost killing Dante when he took only a mouthful of the fruit and deemed himself satisfied.

Dante pretended he wasn’t bothered by the pregnancy at all and spent his forced free time (because even Lady started questioning him taking on missions) looking for a house for Mr. Fluffle; Vergil, on the other side, tried to catch any unusual sign coming from his brother to put the pieces together and figure out what stage he was into, if he had nausea, felt dizzy or had mood swings. But Dante seemed to be the usual Dante, except for an almost insatiable hunger due to the little demanding baby inside him.

That morning, it was Vergil’s turn to do the groceries, and he came back home before midday, finding Dante leaning on the sofa with Mr. Fluffle curled on his belly; Dante was reading him some articles from the newspaper.

“Hah, can you believe this? There were demons at the port, and they blamed it on some people living there.” Mr. Fluffle meowed as if he was right with Dante. “If they started acknowledging demons–”

“Our income may decrease, and human would meddle in our gigs because eradicating them would turn into a government matter.” Vergil concluded for him putting the bags on the desk.

“…shit, you’re right. Better leaving them in their ignorance until we will retire.”

Mr. Fluffle jumped down from Dante and hurried to go brushing himself around Vergil’s legs, making sure to rub his soft fur all over his boots. Vergil ignored him and brought the bag with the food in the kitchen, leaving back the one with the cleaning products.

“Nero called.” Dante informed him.

“Really? Does he need something?” Vergil talked from the kitchen, so Dante stood up and followed him in there. He leaned against the doorstep.

“Nah, not really. He’ll call again this afternoon to talk to you.” He didn’t wait. “I think he will ask you if you want to go to Fortuna.”

Vergil stopped with a celery in one hand and a pack of tomatoes in the other. “Did he tell you?”

“No, but I could guess, since he kept asking me what food you like and what you like doing in your free time and if you could catch a train without getting lost.”

Among all the things, Vergil got irritated. “Of course I can catch a train properly. Does he think I’m an idiot?”

“No, he doesn’t. But you haven’t been living around here for years, he’s just concerned.”

“I went to Fortuna twice, I can go there once more.”

“No Yamato shortcuts, okay?”

“Yes. Those are only for watermelon, don’t they?”

Dante stuck his tongue out, and the thump of a heavy object falling on the floor almost made him bit it. Both went back to the front office, and just when Vergil was in the right position and had a clear view of the bookshelf, Mr. Fluffle pushed down another book with his paw.

“What’s with Mr. Fluffle now?”

“You didn’t greet him when you came back.” Dante reminded him.

Vergil had no choice but allow Mr. Fluffle to jump on his shoulders, scratch his head, and leave him be as his personal warm scarf while he put the groceries away. When he went back for the cleaning products, the bag wasn’t there anymore, and Dante was descending the stairs holding a dish soap bottle.

“I think this one goes under the sink in the kitchen.” He threw it at Vergil. “What’s wrong?” With few steps he closed the distance between them and smacked a light kiss on his lips. “I do something sometimes, see?”

Vergil looked like he wanted to say something, but he just withdrew in the kitchen to finish putting everything back where it belonged. Dante followed him and the moment he entered the room, Mr. Fluffle walked out for his daily nap on the counter of the corner bar.

“Have you found a home for him?” Vergil asked while taking out the frying pan.

“Not yet.” Dante took the pan from his hand. “You bought the sausage? I’m gonna cook it now.”

“I was–”

“No, Nero will call back at any moment.” And if he didn’t before they finished lunch, he would call him personally. “And he wants to talk to you.”

“I see no point in that.” Vergil tried to take the pan back, but Dante kept it out from the range of his arm. “He can talk to you as well, since we’ll go there.”

“And this is where you are wrong, brother.” Before Dante could poke the tip of his nose with the right index, Vergil slapped his hand away. “I won’t come with you.”

“What does that mean?”

“That you will go to Fortuna alone and spend some time with Nero to enjoy some father-son bonding which isn’t slashing each other on the top of a demonic tree.” Dante summarized the gist of it. “If I go there with you, I will stick with you two because I’m not good with children, women or the combination of the two.” It looked like a fourth child added to the three Nero, Nico and Kyrie were taking care of; as if they weren’t enough already.

“Are you really expecting me to leave you when–”

The door of the office opened and distracted Dante enough so that Vergil could snatch the pan from his hand.

“Dante, where are you?” It was Patty.

Dante went to the front office. “Hey, Patty. What brings you here?”

The warmer weather brought a change of clothes in her wardrobe: instead of the heavy coat, she was wearing a nice jacket matching with her pink skirt. “There’s a sale tomorrow at a florist shop I know.” She glanced at the sad empty corner where once flourished Dante’s beloved plant. “We can go there and buy you a new plant, what do you think?”

Patty enjoyed spending some time with Dante, even if she complained about everything he did or said. Dante had never made any suggestion to her because he knew she eventually would plan something, and Patty got used to Dante’s bad habit of waiting for the others instead of making the first step. Even if he scolded him about it.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s not, in fact! And for once you could call me and say, hey Patty–”

“Why don’t you sleep here this weekend? My cranky brother will be away, and I have a spare bed.”

Patty remained speechless, and that was saying a lot.

“What?”

Vergil almost spoke at the same time as her, expressing the same perplexed state. “Dante, you can’t stay alone like–”

“I won’t be here alone, because Patty will stay with me.” Dante shut him up. “Right, Patty?”

“Uh, yeah, sure!” Patty squeaked out. That outcome was definitely something she didn’t expect, and her mind was having troubles in elaborating it. “But you own me a dinner!”

“What dinner?”

“You made me lose time when Mr. Fluffle didn’t want to come home with me!” She reminded him.

“Oh, right. This weekend.”

“Dante, if you don’t bring me to a nice restaurant–”

“I will, promised.”

“I know your promises.” She huffed.

Vergil glanced down at her with cold eyes. “Shouldn’t you be at school now?”

That harsh remark gave Patty her exuberant energy back, and she put both arms on her hips. “Today we finished earlier because the teacher was sick, and they didn’t find a substitute in time. And even if I skipped school, that would be none of your business.”

“I wonder if you even have the nerves to skip school.”

Patty’s eyebrows twitched dangerously. “Are you trying to push a hard-working girl on a bad path, by any chance?”

“I fail to see any hard-working girl.”

“Then put on a pair of glasses!” She smashed her feet on the floor turning around, making her boots tapping on the linoleum. “I will come here this Saturday morning at 8. Don’t be late Dante, we’ll eat breakfast in a nice café. Your treat!”

Dante wondered if she came because she wanted to stay for lunch; but, considering how she slammed the door to show the indignation she felt towards Vergil, probably, if that was her intention, now it wasn’t anymore.

“You two look like siblings.” Dante commented.

“So, you won’t come.” Vergil sounded a bit disappointed.

“I have stuff to do.” Dante listed on the tips of his fingers. “Find Mr. Fluffle a new home, buy a new plant, treat breakfast and dinner to Patty… your little brother is a busy man.” While he was walking to the kitchen, the telephone rang. “This is for you.”

Vergil huffed. “It’s probably a new job.” Since when the _Devil May Cry_ took in more than simply demon related jobs, they had more money and received a greater number of requests for gigs.

Dante steered and go grabbing the telephone. “Devil May Cry.” He pointed the receiver at Vergil with a half smirk. “For you, daddy.”

***

None of them was used at preparing bags, especially if first necessities were involved. Dante had a bit more experience, but he was as clumsy as Vergil.

First the clothes: how many? A change, because you never know if a demon arrives and blurts some strange sticky liquid on you which tastes like honey but itches like nettles. Vergil didn’t want to ask what kind of experience Dante had to describe such a precise situation and grabbed one shirt and a pair of trousers. The toothbrush, they almost forgot it, until Mr. Fluffle pushed on the floor the bottle of shampoo and Vergil noticed his toothbrush as he went checking what happened. Nero’s present was a crumble cake wrapped in a nice big handkerchief Patty gave Dante few years ago – who would have thought it would come in handy like that after being forgotten in a drawer? Lady told them it would be nice bringing some present, something for everyone, and cakes were always a safe bet. However, Vergil and Dante still referred to it as _Nero’s present_.

“You could come.” Vergil repeated once again.

“Do you think you will get lost?” Dante chuckled so he didn’t think that Vergil would get out of the door and wouldn’t come back for three whole days. He got used quicker than expected at having him around again, and the idea they would be apart for more than one day sounded almost ominous.

Dante tried to keep that thought at bay, but it kept biting back at him: what if Vergil decided not to come back to the office anymore? What if he decided to remain in Fortuna or -worse- go back to his solitary life for the sake of power? The latter made Dante feel like shit, because he didn’t want to be suspicious of his brother.

“I have a good sense of orientation.” Vergil remarked.

He was worried about Dante, because anything could happen, and they knew nothing about his pregnancy and how it could unfold: would he give birth in nine months? Or three? What if he felt sick? He didn’t trust Patty on this matter, not because she was young and human, but because she wasn’t him. Probably, he wouldn’t trust Nero either. The rule of luck he experienced more than once in life expected that if anything had to happen, it would happen when he wasn’t in the right place at the right moment.

“There’s no problem then.” Dante shrugs. “Who knows, maybe you will like Fortuna so much that you’ll drop by there some more.”

Vergil was trying to get Mr. Fluffle out from under the bed, luring him with some kibbles. He raised his head. “What?” He smirked. “Are you afraid I won’t come back, brother?”

“That you’ll take the wrong train.” Dante maintained the joke-line and knelt next to Vergil. He tapped his fingers on the floor and Mr. Fluffle dashed to leap on his hand.

Vergil wrinkled his nose, disappointed that his efforts were worth of nothing, and grabbed the cat by the nape of his neck to put him outside the bedroom and close the door. Instead of meowing, like Mr. Fluffle used to do when they locked him out of the bedroom, he stretched himself and went to his favorite corner on the shelf in the office.

“He stopped complaining.” Dante noticed.

“It was about time.” Vergil got close to Dante and used his whole body to force him against the wall. He put an arm next to his head and kissed him. Dante slid his hands along his back to push his brother against himself and chuckled on his lips.

“You’re this hard already.” The hard bulge pressed against his crotch, and Dante waved his hips to rub on it and feel better the contact. He sighed when Vergil kissed his neck, and hoped he was eager enough to take him there against the wall. “I wonder how you will do without me.” He muttered in his ear.

“I can resist the impulse for few days.” Vergil snapped his teeth trying to bite Dante’s lower lip, but Dante bent his head and kissed his cheek. “What about you little brother? Will your fingers be enough to satisfy your desire?”

“Well, I have more than my fingers.”

Vergil chuckled. “I guess your two guns could have other uses as well.” He raised one hand and Yamato appeared. “Better getting used to it, right?” His eyes blurred in lust kept Dante on the spot, like a prey cornered by his predator.

Dante figured out his brother’s intentions, and the mere idea sent shivers down his spine which melted in his groin in painful waves of arousal. Yet, that was nothing compared to the real thing, when Vergil tied his hands to the bed and took off only his trousers.

“You always get wet easily.” Yes, he did, Dante had to admit it.

“And you always get hard easily.” That was true as well.

Then, he spread his legs –bless that Dante was so flexible– and teased him with the hilt of Yamato: he rubbed the cold tip against the warm juicy pussy, and Dante was leaking so much that it almost was dripping on the sheets. Dante arched the back when Vergil poked against his hole and cried in ecstasy as he felt the hilt penetrating his body.

“Had I known you enjoy being tied this much, I would have done it long time ago.” Vergil rotated Yamato, and Dante moaned. “I wonder if you can take it all.” He thrusted inside a bit, and it felt like Dante was clamping so much that it got more difficult getting in. “Relax, Dante.” Vergil looked at him, who was trying to coordinate his breath and moans and jolted at every inch piercing inside. “Or you will come.”

Instead of giving him a break, Vergil massaged his clitoris and enjoyed how Dante tried to close his thighs but couldn’t because he was between his legs giving him pleasure.

“Vergil…” He panted. “…no more. I’m going to–”

Vergil bent and took his clit into his mouth. He felt the twitching shivers of the orgasm against his lips and couldn’t help but smile. “I guess you enjoyed it.” He commented licking away from his mouth some drops.

“Yeah, not bad.” Dante looked a bit worn out, short of breath his cheeks were reddish. His lips slightly wet and apart lured in Vergil’s desire, and he straddled Dante’s face. He unzipped the trousers: his dick slightly bobbed, and Vergil poked Dante’s mouth with the tip. “Open up for me, would you?”

Dante smirked. “Well, if you ask–” Vergil didn’t give him time to be a smartass and shoved the tip inside his mouth. The feeling of the soft wet tongue on the skin sent his mind to heaven, and he grabbed Dante’s hair sliding more inside until he felt the tip of his nose touching his stomach. Dante groaned, and the vibrations teased Vergil’s cock.

“This is a good use of your mouth, little brother.” He mocked him and swung his hips back and forth, tasking how pleasant could be fucking his mouth. “So you can do other things than running your tongue lose like a buffoon.”

Dante raised his eyes at him and enjoyed seeing his brother losing his apparent calm and fall in the _indecent state_ of lust he managed to trigger inside him. His perfectly combed hair was falling on his face, now shaped in an ecstatic expression. And when he came, he squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his teeth, without resisting to a liberating grunt of pleasure.

“Ugh…” Dante coughed with his tongue drowsy of cum. “…you came on my face too.”

Vergil snickered. “Didn’t take you for a picky person.”

Instead of going for his wrists and freeing him, Vergil grabbed Yamato and pushed it slightly further inside Dante’s pussy, ripping a moan from him, before taking it out in a single pull, cutting his breath. Dante exhaled a half laugh.

“It’s always a pleasure when you stab me with your sword.”

Vergil rolled his eyes: he had to stuff his mouth for longer next time.

***

That Saturday, Patty arrived at the _Devil May Cry_ at ten to eight and, of course, when Dante opened the door, he was still wearing his pajama and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

“You’ve just woken up, haven’t you?”

“Hey, I had a harsh night.” Sleeping alone again after having slept back against back with Vergil for months made him realize how he felt miserable before, and he kept rolling in the bed for hours before falling asleep.

“Why? Someone kept snoring in your ear?” Patty chuckled.

“No. Vergil left yesterday.” He realized what he implied with that when Patty tilted her head in confusion. “I can hear him snoring from the other room.” He tried to make up.

“It means I will sleep in his bed.” She didn’t look enthusiast at the idea.

“The sheets are clean.” Dante reassured her. “We changed them.” Two weeks after Nero left, and no one slept there since then.

Patty sighed. “Come on, Dante. Hurry up and get dressed! I’m hungry and I want my breakfast.” She sat on the sofa and smiled delighted as Mr. Fluffle positioned himself on her legs to receive some attention. “Oh, but what a splendid soft white fur you have here!” She pleased him with compliments and scratches on the head. “You are still here, huh? Dante didn’t manage to kick you out.”

Dante didn’t take much time to get dressed, but Patty still complained, because she pointed out he had to be ready by eight, and it was a quarter past eight.

“What are you doing?” She asked when he grabbed Mr. Fluffle.

“He gotta get prepared too.”

“Why?”

“He is coming with us. We’ll check if anyone wants to adopt him.”

Patty didn’t know if Dante was joking or not: he was being careful at not hurting the cat while brushing his fur and adjusted a nice pink ribbon around his neck.

“Here, so you’ll match Patty.”

“And you are still looking for someone to adopt him?” Patty was sceptic and didn’t hide it.

“Yes. Vergil says he is old and nobody will want him, but I’m pretty positive today is the day.”

“The day of what?”

“The day someone will adopt him.” Dante opened the door of the shop and Patty, behind him, shook her head.

“Whatever you say. I just care about my delicious breakfast, I’m starving!”

She dragged Dante to a little café in a little road. Inside, it looked like a cozy cottage of mountain, and the lady who owned it was kind, but not fake just because they were clients: she was genuinely gentle as a first approach. Despite Dante wasn’t the kind of person who let his guard down whenever he was outside, he couldn’t help but relax a bit.

“You know what?” Patty was pouring inside her cappuccino so many teaspoons of sugar that Dante believed it could overflow at any moment. “You should buy him a harness and a leash.”

“Why? He isn’t a dog.”

“This way he could just walk instead of staying into your arms.”

Mr. Fluffle didn’t seem to have any complain about staying in Dante’s strong arms, but from time to time he stretched his legs and attempted to escape to take a little stroll.

Patty insisted. “I’m sure they will let you try it on him at the shop. You can check if he’s up for it or not.”

Dante sighed. “Today you decide what to do…”

Three portions of pancake towers later (one for Patty and two for Dante), they changed their plans and headed to the pet shop first. What a beautiful girl, the clerk said, no, Dante replied, he is a boy. The clerk was clearly trying not to say aloud what was showing on his face: why in the world a pink ribbon for a male cat? However, Dante didn’t mind and gave him a second hit by asking for a harness and a leash suitable to Mr. Fluffle. For how it sounded a too bizarre thing, the clerk weakly asked what color and decided to give up when Dante replied “Bring them all, he will choose.” and pointed at Mr. Fluffle.

“Dante.” Patty elbowed him while Mr. Fluffle was sniffing the harnesses. “Why don’t you buy him a tag?”

“He doesn’t need one.”

“What if he gets lost?”

Dante huffed. “Aren’t we buying a leash so he won’t?”

“But what if he escapes from home?!”

“Then it’s a problem of his owner.”

The clerk wasn’t understanding the sense of that conversation, so he pretended he was focused on Mr. Fluffle trying to put his head into the pink harness. Dante used that to cut Patty’s reply.

“Hey, he has chosen. I want a matching leash.”

So, Dante exited the shop with Mr. Fluffle wrapped in his new harness sinking in his wispy fur. He was still lying in Dante’s arms and was looking down at that new accessory, probably trying to figure out what was the meaning of that. Patty came out five minutes later.

“What took you so long? I didn’t know you had a pet.”

“They didn’t have what I was looking for.” Patty glanced at him, then at the cat, and then back at Dante. “Shouldn’t you put him down?”

“I don’t know. He escaped his old house twice, but he may have developed some fear for the outside world and–” Mr. Fluffle jumped down from his arms and barely made any noise landing gracefully on his paws. “–or he is just perfectly fine like that.” He walked around Dante’s legs before sitting down and looking up at him. Since Dante didn’t do anything, he hurried him with a small meow.

“See?” Patty crossed her arms in satisfaction. “He wants to walk.”

Dante opened the leash from the plastic wrap. “Okay, I see you two are teaming up against me.”

Contrary to the expectations of the clerk and some other clients in the pet shop who followed the purchase with a hint of nosey interest, Mr. Fluffle reacted more than well to the harness and the leash. Right after Dante hooked it, he bit the leash few times, as to get what that device was; then he snapped his jaws twice, as he probably didn’t like that taste, and calmed down, walking near them like a well-behaved dog. Quite a lot of people turned their heads around to check if their eyes weren’t deceiving them and the animal at the end of the leash was a cat and not a small dog.

Patty was quite sure Dante would start complaining about dragging the plant around all day and then paying for having someone bringing it home, so it was quite surprising how he made Mr. Fluffle climb on his right shoulder to avoid him being squished by the crowd lured in by the discount and then said “Okay, let’s find my new plant. I also need a new spray bottle and a pair of scissors because the old ones are all rusted.”

“You like taking care of plants, don’t you?” Patty didn’t need to ask, because she witnessed many times how Dante would rather use the little money left to buy the right soil and fertilizer for his plant instead of paying the bills, but she liked talking with him.

“Plants are the only things I apparently can handle well in my life.”

“Well, that’s not true.” Patty smirked at his frown. “You have many wonderful friends around you, me being the first one. And not everyone has such good friends, you know?”

Dante chuckled and pinched her cheek between the index and middle knuckles in a tender gesture of affection. “I guess you are right.”

“Of course I am!”

It didn’t take Dante much to choose without fail, because he was fast at spotting a plant which was the exact copy of his old one which died by Lady and Trish’s hands. He took much deciding if he had to buy the red spray bottle or the blue one, and Patty saved their time choosing an orange one and putting it in the small basket ignoring Dante’s complaints.

“…and then the movie was a total disappointment.” Patty finished telling Dante of another of the countless episodes in her busy life as a teenager. “Every time I say I will choose because I have a better instinct on movies, but I always let him do it.” She was talking about her best friend.

“Then choose it. I don’t think he will get mad. It sounds like he cares about you.”

“Yes, but he just seems so enthusiast whenever there’s a movie which catches his interest that I just can’t help myself. All my other friends believe he is my boyfriend for this, and it gets on my nerves.”

“I guess they’ve never heard of friendship, then.”

They exited the shop after making sure the plant would be delivered at the office after lunch. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” Dante asked. “We can buy some take away for lunch.”

“Why don’t you cook me something?”

“Seriously?” Dante glanced at her, but she crossed her arms and counterattacked with such a deep frown, that he had to give up. “Okay, okay. What do you want?”

“Hamburger and fries.”

“It sounds like you already wanted me to cook, huh?”

Back at the office, Morrison was waiting for them, meaning a new job was as well. “I was afraid you took another long holiday.” He took out the hat and slightly bowed to Patty. “Miss Patty, it’s been a while, isn’t it?” His eyes fell on Mr. Fluffle quietly tied at the leash, but he didn’t make any comment.

“It is, how are you Morrison?”

“Older each day and with a new job for Dante.” He made way for Dante to open the door. “We can talk about it during lunch.”

“Inviting yourself, I see.” Dante commented, but the more, the merrier. And being with Patty and Morrison brought back some pleasant memories from the past, when they crashed into his life during his darkest hours and dragged him out of the pit he was falling into because of Mundus and the (apparent) loss of his brother. “Like old good times.”

Patty took the harness off Mr. Fluffle and entertained him with one of her bracelets which he enjoyed jumping at when swayed in front of his nose. Morrison prepared the table while Dante was cooking. “Who would have thought it would come the day…” Morrison commented. “…when I would eat something prepared by Dante.” And he cackled.

Dante served the hamburgers and the fries right when Morrison and Patty were chatting about that friend who always choose the movies.

“I saw you the other day at the mall with a boy.” Morrison said. “Was it him? Your boyfriend?”

Patty shook her head. “He’s not my boyfriend, he is my best friend!”

“Is that how they are called nowadays, huh? Since when are you two together?”

Patty was upset: she managed to hide her sad and disappointed look from Morrison, but couldn’t fly under Dante’s radar.

“Morrison, talk me about this job.” He interrupted them and squeezed an abundant quantity of ketchup on his plate. “I hope it’s nearby, because before that, I must wait for my new plant to get home.”

“Oh, so you got a new one. Good, good.” Morrison didn’t mind anymore about Patty and her private life and explained the job in detail.

Nothing really difficult: there probably was a small nest of demons nearby the port, because it had been few days that people kept disappearing. Morrison weighed the witnesses’ words and didn’t hide that it could also be the work of a criminal organization.

“…but this enterprise is sick of their men disappearing out of the blue. Better safe than sorry, they said. However…” He ate a French fry, then continued. “…are you sure _you_ can take this on? I thought your brother was here.”

“He is having a heart-warming family reunion with Nero.”

“I see. I could ask Trish if she’s up for it. Lady is abroad until next week, so–”

“Come on, Morrison! I can take on this gig on my own.” Dante interrupted him. “I’m still the usual healthy Dante. You all worry too much.”

“Worry too much?” Patty looked at them. “About what? Tell me.” She was curious.

The aggressive rang of the doorbell saved Dante, who took the arrival of his new plant as an excuse to forget about that matter.

***

Patty was sure that Dante would bring up him being tired because of the mission (there were demons at the port who feasted on people working there) to avoid going out and eat at the restaurant. But he came back, took a shower, made sure Mr. Fluffle had enough food, water, that his pillow used as bed was neat and tidy, and brought her out for dinner.

During the whole evening, Patty refrained from asking him what Morrison meant about him being able to take on a gig which wasn’t even that difficult, considering how Dante explained it as “I arrived there, the demons pissed their pants and I had to chase them to kill, but they were too slow for my guns.”. She was curious about it but didn’t want to ruin the nice atmosphere and was happy that for once Dante asked her some questions on how her life was going: he asked about school, his mother, the trips with his friends and her birthday.

“You should have been there too. You would have had fun!” She remarked, but without any hint of poison in her voice, because Trish informed her that while she was partying, Dante was avoiding that a mighty demon took over the human world – but omitted that he was actually sleeping and would have slept for a whole month before being awakened. However, Dante huffed “Surrounded by children?” and laughed at her snarling at him that she wasn’t a kid anymore, because she was eighteen.

Back at home, in the silence of the room and while leafing through the apps of her smartphone, Patty thought again about what Morrison said, and believed they were keeping something from her. Maybe something related to demons, and they were just doing it to protect her; she understood that, but somehow she was still childish enough to feel bad because they didn’t trust her. She wasn’t a hunter, she was human and weak, but she could handle a secret, even if related to demons.

However, Patty knew that, no matter what, they would never tell her anything that could even in the slightest put her in danger.

_ Knock knock. _

“Dante.” She whispered after knocking on the door of his room. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. What now?”

Patty called him not less than five times while she was getting ready for bed, asking where the hairdryer was, if he had some hairpins because she forgot hers at home and other things she needed for her sleep; Dante wondered what else she needed.

“May I get in?” Her voice sounded a bit off.

“Come in.”

The first thing Patty noticed was that the room was tidier than she expected, and Dante was comfortably sitting on a double bed. Wearing a ridiculous pajama with a bear-pattern.

“That bed is huge just for one person!” She threw herself next to him, sinking her face in the pillow.

Dante took it away from under her head. “You have your own room.”

“We can make a sleepover.” Patty sat down. “That’s what friends usually do.”

“Are you afraid of sleeping on your own?”

“It’s not like that!” She pouted. “You like making me angry, don’t you?”

Dante chuckled. “What do you want then?”

Patty grabbed the pillow back and pressed it against her chest in a hug; she looked like she was shielding behind it.

“Actually, I need an advice.”

“About your best friend?”

“…not really.”

“You know I’m not the best one for giving advice.”

“I know.” Patty huffed. “But I think you won’t judge me.”

Dante had a little hunch of what she might want to talk about but took the naïve route to approach her. “Have you killed someone?”

“No!” She blurted out. “I’m trying to be serious here!” With a sigh, she calmed down. “My friend likes a girl, and she is my friend as well. He asked her out already and she accepted.” She glanced away and didn’t look directly at Dante. “And…” A shrug. “…you know, I may be jealous. Maybe.” She remarked.

“Well, that’s normal, I guess.”

Patty raised her eyes and hid half of her face behind the pillow. “The problema is that I’m jealous of him, because I...” She gulped down. “…I think I wanted to be the one asking her out…” Her voice faded away in a small sigh. “I’m strange, right?”

“No.” Dante didn’t wait to reply. “You are jealous of someone you like. I’m not a master in relationships, but to my knowledge, it’s pretty common.”

Patty looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Mom will hate me, right?”

In a second, Dante was struck by how _he_ was the lucky one: no matter what happened in his bizarre life, he was sure that the few people who cared about him would hardly leave his side. But Patty lived on the other side of the world, where demons were strange and people loving each other were even stranger.

“No, she won’t.” He meant it. “But in the absurd case she will, I have one spare bed.”

“…what about your brother?”

“This bed is pretty much the size of two big men like us.”

Patty threw herself into Dante’s arms before he could finish. Tears dropped along her face as she sobbed against his chest. Unused to how to reassure people, Dante lightly patted her back. He was about to tell her to stop crying, because there was nothing to be worried about, but then just said “Cry as much as you want.”

For then whole minutes, Patty cried her heart out. Then, her breath calmed little by little, until she went silent. Dante believed she fell asleep and grabbed the duvet, but Patty called his name.

“Dante… Are you sick?”

“No. Why?”

“Because today…” She sniffled. “…when Morrison talked about the job, he talked like you couldn’t do it.”

“Ah that…” Dante hoped Patty would forget about it, but Lady was right: he couldn’t hide that forever.

“You should take care of your health, dummy.”

“I know, thank you.” Dante caressed her hair. “…actually, I’m not sick.” Pause. “I’m pregnant.”

Patty straightened her back in a quick dash and almost headbutted Dante. He believed she would start yelling at him for casting that kind of jokes. And she yelled, but not for that reason.

“Dante! You went to fight demons today! How could you be so irresponsible?!” She didn’t even wait for him to try defending himself and assaulted him again with a storm of words. “Are you eating properly?! Oh no! Had I known, I wouldn’t have asked for hamburgers and French fries today! I thought you put on some weight on the belly and didn’t tell you so you wouldn’t feel bad about it! And then I thought it was some demon thing you took from your father’s side!” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, father! Who is the father?”

That unexpected reaction baffled Dante. “Well, so you do really believe me.”

“Of course I do! I mean, if you didn’t want to tell me something, you would just don’t tell me, saying I’m too young, as you, Lady, Trish and Morrison always do.”

Her eyes were clearly asking him if he was lying. Dante smiled. “I guess you’re right… the father is Vergil.” He said casually.

Silence. Then, Patty lost it. “Dante! Your tastes in men are horrible! I knew it!”

She went on with her inquiry and asked him many things Dante didn’t know himself. _How long is the pregnancy?_ Ah, beats me. _Is it a boy or a girl?_ Uhm… I don’t know. _But what about the clinic? You are a demon man who’s going to give birth, that’s hard to explain._ That’s a good question. I don’t have a good answer. _Have you thought about the name already? I want to be introduced as the older sister, okay?_ It’s probably not bigger than my fist right now, we’ll think about it later. _Oh, Dante! This is something you must think about from now!_

Patty turned off slowly, falling asleep while Dante was telling her he didn’t know how what kind of cradle he wanted to buy. Dante tucked her in bed and as he turned around, he spotted a white ball jumping on the bed.

“You know the rule.” Mr. Fluffle poked his nose at the index pointed at him and gave it a quick lick. “But it is also true that Vergil isn’t here. Just for tonight.” Dante grabbed him. “What’s that?”

That evening, Patty insisted she wanted to be the one taking the ribbon off, and Dante didn’t have much chance to play with Mr. Fluffle, because she monopolized the cat’s attention, at least until he got tired of playing and hid under the sofa. Half-covered by the fur, around his neck there was a pink collar from which was hung a heart-shaped tag with _Mr. Fluffle_ carved on it.

“The shop didn’t have what you were looking for, huh?” Dante ruffled Patty’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Vergil catch the right train? Asking for science.


	8. Leap in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper Lady, never misses her target.

Dante was a bit worried that he wouldn’t see Vergil getting off the train, that he would see people descending the three stairs of the wagons, then the doors would close, and the train would leave without his brother being there. However, Vergil managed to get on the right train; he was among the first ones to get off, and he marched to his brother splitting the crowd with elegant indifference to their glares.

“I thought you were lost.”

“Your opinion on me is quite misguided.”

“Yeah, just kidding.” Vergil glanced at the brown bag Dante was holding. “I was hungry.” Dante shrugged, and Vergil expected him to pick out something extra sweet like a croissant, so he became genuinely confused when his brother took a mouthful of a not peeled carrot, and his face melted in a gaze of pure pleasure. “Damn, this is so good.” He muttered spitting some orange shards.

“How was your weekend?” Vergil asked as they walked out the railway station.

“Calm, as usual. I had a job–and I was careful, trust me.” Dante hurried to add as Vergil’s eyes pierced him. “Geez, I can take care of myself… oh, Patty bought a collar to Mr. Fluffle.”

“Why?”

“Beats me. But he doesn’t mind and hasn’t tried to shake it off, so I guess it’s fine.” Dante rustled inside the bag. “Oh, I must go to an old lady’s house tomorrow, Morrison said.”

“What does she need?”

“Mother of a friend. She needs some company because tomorrow he can’t take care of her. Zero risk job.”

“Zero money as well, I suppose.”

Dante shrugged. Before, he wouldn’t accept such handyman’s jobs, even less if not paid, but now the Devil May Cry was working at full power covering all the range of jobs it could – for how the arrival of a third person became an additional reason, Vergil would never live in the near-homeless conditions Dante used to let himself slid in, and only chasing demons didn’t add much money to their bank account.

“I see.”

“So…” Dante took out an eggplant. “…how was _your_ weekend?” He waited on purpose and didn’t attack Vergil with questions on what he and Nero did because his brother wasn’t the outgoing type; but he wanted to know and couldn’t resist much more to curiosity.

Vergil frowned at Dante’s huge bite on the eggplant. “…I didn’t know you liked eggplants.”

“Yeah me neither, but I passed in front of this greengrocer and her stall was filled with delicious-looking vegetables. I wanted to try some.” Vergil wasn’t sure eggplants were supposed to be eaten raw. “Don’t brush off the main topic: what did you do with Nero?”

“He introduced me to his family.” Nico treated him the same way he treated him when he was V; _no special treatment for the daddy version_ , she explained when Nero elbowed her in the ribs. “Nico is interested in demons, but not in the insane way Arkham was. She made pretty good stuff for Nero starting from demon’s remains.”

Dante nodded. “Yep, I still use the hat she gave me. Pretty cool.” But sometimes, he could swear it, he heard it whispering when nobody was around, as if it was a proper demonic weapon and not some normal hat imbued with some demon magic sprinkles.

“The children seem trouble. Nero’s woman said it’s temporary, but then she added she just can’t send them back at the orphanage.”

“So that’s it.” Dante was at half eggplant. “What does Nero think?”

“I asked him, and he said that they will do their best, because Kyrie wants to keep them.” Vergil ignored Dante’s attempt of saying something, his mouth was already open, and continued. “And when I asked him what he wanted to do, he just shrugged. I don’t like it.” His frown deepened. Now that he thought about it, Dante and Nero shared that same habit: whenever they didn’t know how to explain something itchy, they shrugged.

“That he shrugs at you?”

“That he is confined in that town where half of the people still blame him on what happened because of you–”

“Hey! I saved his sorry ass! You should thank me if you still have a son!”

“–okay, because of some foolish human. But you could have been quicker and less flashy, it would have saved time and debris.” He ignored Dante’s obvious roll of eyes. “The girl has set everything for their lives, and I doubt she asked Nero. I don’t understand why Nero just gets along with it.”

“I don’t know, love?” Dante didn’t want to ask him if he was exaggerating, because he himself didn’t know anything about Kyrie, except that Nero almost kissed her after defeating the Savior (very cheesy moment for such a punk) and her specialty was being kidnapped. When Vergil huffed at him, he added. “Well, you’ve just scraped the surface, maybe.”

“I know. What I may think is better for Nero, isn’t what Nero thinks is better for him. I won’t tell him what to do, this is just my opinion.”

However, it sounded like Vergil thought he was right and Nero was wrong. Dante didn’t tell him that and wondered how much Vergil waited before he vented out his thoughts. His forehead relaxed a bit, and the wrinkles disappeared.

“Okay, now that we are over your fatherly worries, what did you do?” He hoped Vergil didn’t spend the entire weekend making sure Nero realized he didn’t exactly share his way of living.

“Nero showed me Fortuna. It has changed considerably since the last I went there.”

Vergil explained how some zones were unrecognizable but he called them by name, he talked about the library, the central square and other places probably Dante didn’t even pass through the only time he went to Fortuna; he just nodded at his brother while he consumed the vegetables he bought, but as he took out the raw broccoli, Vergil stopped.

“Are you going to eat that now?”

“Yes.”

“Mom had to bribe you to make you eat that. I clearly remember.”

“Cooked are awful.” Dante took a nibble with a crunch. “Like this it’s quite nice.”

It looked like Dante’s tastes in food were slowly changing, because he never ate vegetables willingly, unless it was peppers on pizza. It was highly probable that the pregnancy was the cause behind the twist, and yet, _raw eggplants and broccoli_.

“By the way, some old machinery from the Order is still intact.”

“I thought Nero destroyed them all.” Dante waved the broccoli. “Is anyone using them to turn people into those awful things they called angels? Again?”

“No.”

“I can’t see the problem then.”

“Nero said one of them may be used to scan your body. Maybe we can see the baby.”

“I don’t think we really need that. I feel good.”

Vergil huffed. “We can give it a try. It’s been three months and we know nothing. How much he is big. If he is a he or a she.”

“Considering how the little one feasted on me, he probably has already grown fangs and claws.” Dante joked, but he felt a sharp sensation at the head and turned around to meet with Vergil’s serious glare. “I don’t care if the baby turns out being a little copy of us in sin devil trigger.” He added with nonchalance. “Until he or she is safe and healthy, I don’t care about anything else.”

“This means you must be checked from time to time.” Vergil sounded colder than before. “We have no idea if the baby is currently healthy or not, and it could have consequences on your health as well.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t joke on that.”

Dante scoffed. “If you knew me a bit, you’d know I always joke, even when things are really serious.”

They stopped at the crossroads and waited in silence for the traffic signal to turn green for them. While he was gazing in the direction opposite to his brother, Dante felt a small bump on the back of his right hand. He ignored it until he felt it again, and Vergil made a shy attempt at taking his hand. Dante intertwined his fingers with his brother’s and smiled.

By the time they reached the office, both had gone over that brief incomprehension which could have led to a quarrel. Instead, Vergil enjoyed how Mr. Fluffle climbed to his shoulders to give his neck a comfortable purring massage.

“He missed you.”

“You didn’t make him enter the bedroom, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t.” Dante felt his gaze on his head, and he couldn’t pretend for long he was checking something on the desk. “Just once.” He turned around to meet with Vergil’s scolding eyes. “It was a difficult evening. I forgot to close the door.”

“Why difficult?”

“Don’t think about the worst. Patty and I had a sleepover.”

Vergil didn’t get what could go wrong with a sleepover, but the office was still in one piece, so he didn’t mind.

“Is that the new plant?” In the corner, the exact place where his old plant was before leaving him forever, the new one stood flourishing in its vase. “It looks tacky.” And it fit Dante’s style.

“How can a plant be tacky?”

“I’ll take a shower.” Vergil dismissed him: he still felt on his clothes the smell of the toilet he carelessly decided to use once and he was about to get nauseous because of it.

After a revitalizing shower, he felt quite better.

“That’s my t-shirt.” Dante pointed out from the sofa.

“Are you tired?” Vergil asked because his brother was leaning down and it was still morning.

“No. I’m enjoying the last few seconds of having the sofa all for myself.” He had to bend the knees to make space for Vergil. “Figures. Fun is over.”

“When are we going to Fortuna?”

“Fortuna?” Dante suddenly remembered about what Nero told about checking the baby and said a little “Oh.” then nodded “That thing. We can wait when it gets a bit warmer.”

“It’s warm already. If it’ll be too warm, you could suffer from it.”

“Nah. I can bear hot weather better than you.”

“But you aren’t the same as before, Dante.” Vergil crossed his arms. “Why you never think about it?”

“And why don’t you all think about how I can judge my current condition? I’m okay. And I’m not saying no checks whatsoever, but just stop breathing down my neck–Vergil, what the heck? I’m serious, for once!”

Dante’s attempt to push Vergil away before he leaned on him failed, and he found himself blocked against the sofa with his brother breathing against his neck.

“Wait, is this a joke?”

Vergil smirked. “It’s not like you have a monopoly on jokes.”

Dante laughed. “You suck at jokes. But I appreciate the effort.” He sank his fingers through Vergil’s locks and forced him to raise his head. “This one was actually nice.” Now that he was back, he felt calmer; he couldn’t sleep well the previous nights, because many thoughts tormented him, from Vergil not coming back and disappearing again to Vergil saying he wouldn’t come back and stay with Nero – which would be more than fair, Dante rationally thought.

But Vergil was there now, glaring at him because Dante cupped his cheeks and was trying to squash his face. “You have a hard face, bro.”

“I also have a hard sword. Do you want to try it?”

That was meant to be a jokingly threat, and Dante knew Vergil didn’t have any other intentions but he chuckled. “Well, I’d love to. I’ve used my fingers in any possible way.” It took Vergil a while to understand the reason behind Dante’s smirk, but he only did when he added. “I wasn’t thinking about trying Yamato.”

Vergil huffed. “You never change, don’t you?”

“Never change a winning team, they say.”

“But you could always improve.”

Dante turned on his side and Vergil put himself between his back and the sofa, both arms around his body to keep him close and avoid him sliding on the floor. That sofa wasn’t designed for such activities, and if Dante wasn’t so attached to it, he would think of changing it.

“Vergil, your hands are cold.” He trembled at the cold fingers touching his stomach from under the t-shirt. “Have you showered with cold water?”

Vergil ignored him and touched his chest. It was a pleasure running his fingers all over it until his nipples turned rigid: his skin was smooth and the chest hair soft.

“Mh…”

Dante sensed a doubt in his mumble. “What’s wrong?”

“They grew bigger.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

Vergil groped his boobs: round and firm as always, and yet the fingers sank a bit more tenderly than he recalled. “Yes, they are bigger.” He stated and kept drawing circles with the hands on his chest.

Dante muttered in delight at that pleasant massage. “It itches.”

“Oh yeah?” Vergil kissed his neck. “How about this then?” He squeezed both boobs.

“My nipples are itching.”

“Maybe it’s the fabric.” Vergil pinched his nipples between the thumbs and middle fingers, rubbing the tip with the index. “Better now?”

“Mmmh, yeah.”

Dante felt his chest growing warmer, quite a different sensation from usual: his nipples were slightly numb after the itchy sensation stopped bothering him, and his pecs were slightly rigid as if he made some effort. He didn’t mind until Vergil jolted against his back; he suddenly took his hands away and Dante felt cold.

“What’s wrong?” Dante glanced down and saw two darker spots on his t-shirt, as if droplets of water fell on his nipples. “What the…?”

Vergil sat down, and Dante did it right after him. He raised his t-shirt to show his chest: the left nipple was humid, and from the right one a whitish drop was about to glide on the skin.

“Holy shit, already?” Dante said aloud. “I thought I wouldn’t come to this at all, actually.”

“Some women don’t lactate, and some do during false pregnancy.” Vergil scowled at Dante raising one eyebrow. “I read books, Dante.”

“Yes, I know, you always leave them around.”

“I don’t. I leave them knowing I’ll be soon back to my reading.”

“That’s the elegant way to admit you never put them back?” Dante squeezed his right boob, but nothing came out. “It stopped.” He didn’t want to admit he felt unease at hid body reacting differently from what he was used to. “Well, that has broken the mood.” Even if Vergil didn’t say anything, he could understand that unexpected surprise worried him to the point his libido dived into the void. Dante stood up and turned to the kitchen. “I’ll drink something.”

It was the perfect moment to say something and give Dante some relief which wasn’t a rambling on how that condition was natural. However, Vergil’s skills in communication sucked, and he just nodded. “I’ll have something as well.”

He didn’t expect to sense something poking at his leg, so he was surprised to see Mr. Fluffle bumping his head against him before gently jumping on his lap. “Were you watching?” Vergil asked and received a small lick on the tip of the fingers as reply. He didn’t have the usual ribbon, but just a pink collar with a heart hanging from it. Vergil read the name carved with an elegant font, then turned it around. Patty had the office’s number be carved under a request: _if lost, call Dante_.

“Dante.” Vergil drew his attention. “Are you still looking for a new family for the cat?” He asked while Mr. Fluffle was enjoying the scratches under the chin.

“Yes. No luck up to now. Why?” He went back holding two glasses filled with fruit juice. “Do you know anyone who could take care of him?”

“No. I was curious.”

Vergil decided to wait until Dante would discover that detail on his own.

***

To his memory, Dante had never seen Trish and Vergil interact. There was a high possibility that Vergil had some fleeting memories of her from when he was Nelo Angelo, as once, when talking about her and Lady, Vergil abruptly interrupted him with a “Mundus’ woman?” which left Dante speechless. He didn’t ask more, because if Vergil wanted and needed to talk about Mundus, he would have done so. It was a sensitive topic, and Dante didn’t want to bring back unnecessary trauma which had been eradicated already at the expenses of a whole town and half of its inhabitants.

Then, at least to Dante and Lady, that was their very first meeting – V didn’t count.

Vergil’s eyebrows slightly twitched when Trish entered the office: maybe because she was the perfect physical copy of their mother, or because she was Mundus’ pawn as well, or just because she sat on the desk on the book Vergil carelessly left there. The fact remained that Vergil had no means to find an excuse to leave, because Lady and Trish accepted a job which was too much for two, due to the vast area to clear from demons in a short time and “A pair of big wings would come in handy.” Lady concluded.

Actually, Vergil could leave and just let his brother take in the job. Of course, he remained because he didn’t want Dante to face any risk more than he was already doing.

“Okay.” He replied when Lady finished her explanation. “I’ll come.”

Dante noticed how Lady wasn’t so cheerful as she talked to his brother and didn’t drop even one small joke. Vergil was dense enough not to notice Lady could still have issues with him which showed by the different attitude she had in his presence; but for Trish, Dante as well didn’t know what she thought about him, and they had never talked about it. Maybe he had to reconsider his strategy of not talking about stuff and waiting for other people to do it.

“Are you sure, Vergil?”

“Yes. You already have the other job to take care of.”

Lady crossed her arms. “Other job?”

“Bodyguard–” Dante began.

“–of an old lady and her knitting needles.” Vergil finished.

Lady and Trish didn’t even try hiding their amusement, but Dante ignored them. “When will you be back?”

“I haven’t left yet and you already miss me?”

“I want to know if I can let the cat enter the bedroom tonight.”

Lady butted in the conversation and set in between them. “I’m sorry to interrupt this lovely old-married-couple conversation, but we have a job to do…” She stepped back next to Vergil. “…and you have an old lady to watch an entertaining soap opera with, Dante.”

Trish was already waiting outside the door. “We are taking the car.” She announced shaking the keys.

“What? Morrison lets _you_ two use it and not me?” Dante opened his arms in disbelief. “I should really buy a new one.”

“Consider this, Dante: you owe me a motorbike since ages.” Lady reminded him. “Keep it in mind when you will go look at that nice red Corvette I told you about last year.”

“Uhm… nope. Not a single clue about a motorbike.”

“Yeah, figures. Have fun today knitting and chatting. Don’t do anything dangerous!” She walked to the door but didn’t go out: she tended an arm to point outside and looked at Vergil. “Your majesty.”

Dante wouldn’t be surprised if only two out of three would come back, even if he would rather have all of them be safe and sound – at least alive, he could  live with Vergil having only one arm or something. It looked like Vergil didn’t mind Lady’s evident intolerance towards him which manifested whenever he was around, and he ignored both her and her words, going straight to the car.

Vergil sat behind, the ladies in the front: Lady took out a magazine and Trish, who had learnt how to drive watching Dante and receiving few tips and a fake driver license from Morrison, made the engine roar.

“That’s the worst group I’ve ever seen.” Dante looked at the car disappearing at the end of the road with a shriek of wheels; Mr. Fluffle, sitting next to him, decided it was the best moment to start cleaning himself. “Yes, you are right. They are too stubborn to die, even if they start slashing each other.”

He admitted to himself he wanted to witness what was going on in the car, because leaving his brother together with the two women he enslaved for a whole month didn’t sound like the best premise for a soothing atmosphere.

But Dante would be disappointed: Lady was interested in the magazine she brought along, Vergil stuck his eyes looking outside the window and didn’t turn once, and Trish put on some music to cover that heavy silence. Lady didn’t want to go asking Dante help, because she knew Dante joining them was too much of a big risk to his health, but Trish was sure Dante could pull it off. Actually, Trish didn’t mind if it was Dante or Vergil, she just wanted to finish that job as soon as possible.

Industrial areas weren’t alluring per se, however, they could get worse if demons decided that was the right place to build their nest and sprout with the speed of an assembly line heirs ready to make breakfast out of humans. The moment they entered the surroundings, Trish and Vergil could sense the intense demonic presence, suddenly followed by a pungent scent; Lady, being human, took a little more to feel the smell and she wrinkled her nose in evident disgust.

“Hey Trish.” Lady got armed from head to toe in a couple of minutes but was still standing in front of the truck with a pensive look. “New Kalina or old one?”

“I’d rather make sure all the machinery is intact when we are done, so, if you want to take your launcher with you, go have fun in the fields. Or I’ll detract the damages from your share.”

With a sigh, Lady took the old Kalina Ann. “You are no fun at all. Usual bet?”

“Aren’t you tired of losing?” Trish looked at Vergil, who was inspecting the area. “Could you fly above and see where the nest is exactly located?”

He turned around and glanced at her, waiting a bit before answering. “Yes, I can.” And he kept staring at her.

Trish tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Then you do that and will avoid any small fry escapes.”

The frown was a clear hint, but the wrinkle of the nose gave away how Vergil didn’t welcome that order. Before he could reply, Lady snapped her fingers.

“Hey, every single time we team up with Dante, all the juicy demons end up going to him because _Sparda_ _! Kin of the traitor!_ ” She forced a coarse voice in a failed attempt of imitating a demon, and both Trish and Vergil looked at her filled with doubts on whatever she was going to say. “Vergil could be our Pied Piper of Hamelin. And I could use my rocket launcher, if we are on open country.”

“If they set a nest, I doubt they could be so stupid to be lured out where they are an easy target.” Vergil commented.

“I don’t know. You look clever at first glance.” Lady smirked. “But then someone knows you better and magic is gone.”

Instead of the annoyed reaction Lady expected, Vergil deadpanned her. “I don’t care about someone.” He unsheathed Yamato. “So, luring the demons here?” A single slice on the palm of his hand and a gush of blood dripped on the ground. “This should suffice.”

Trish put both hands on her hips and looked in the distance. She felt a flicker in the demonic aura; the demons smelt the blood and they probably recognized it. “Good idea.” Trish clapped her hands twice. “But wouldn’t have been better if we lured them elsewhere and not nearby the car?”

Vergil looked at Lady in silence, then glanced away and shook his head.

Lady clenched her teeth. “I didn’t mean right now! Did I really have to point that out?”

“A good plan, not so well conducted.” Trish shook her head.

“Oh, come on, Trish!” Lady snapped turning around, Kalina Ann aiming at Vergil. “We are going to push them back! And the loser buys drinks, as always!”

A swarm of demons hurried their way. But, as Vergil pointed out, the stronger demons waited for them to enter their nest, even if they weren’t strong enough to be a real treat to them even in their own territory. Vergil didn’t follow Trish and Lady in their challenge and let them count the preys they slayed while lazily swinging Yamato around to cut whoever scampered to him. His presence prevented the demons from escaping, because the hatred of the demonic kin towards his father was stronger than their sense of self preservation.

The last demon was sent flying by Trish right on Kalina Ann’s blade, and Lady pulled the trigger, sending him flying in the sky until the explosion ripped his flesh to shreds. Walking back to the car, Lady and Trish didn’t stop arguing on who should take the last kill which would also decide the winner.

“I basically served him to you on a silver plate, Lady!”

“But who is the one who pulled the trigger?”

“You would have never caught him with your rocket even if he was sleeping in front of him. You missed twice!”

“He hid behind other corpses. Not my fault he is a little bit cleverer than your average demon.”

Vergil spoke over Trish who was about to point out Lady relied a bit too much on her rocket launcher in short distance combats. “Smoke.” He pointed at a column of smoke burning not so distant from them.

Trish had a sinister doubt. Lady felt her stomach falling to her feet and it climbed back to her throat when she laid her eyes on what remained of the car, mixed with stinky remnants of the demon they had just slayed.

“That’s quite a good aim you have.” Vergil wasn’t ironic. He looked at the lonely skeleton of the car burning with crispy sounds. “The car was pretty far.”

Lady groaned. “How many possibilities there were?”

“One in a zillion, and you made it.” Trish crossed her arms. “We must go back by train. Congratulations.”

“Oh, shut up! You served it on a silver plate, didn’t you?”

The town wasn’t very distant from the industrial area, but the heavy mood the death of the car set on the group made the path seem longer than it actually was. Lady felt sorry and, as soon as they reached a telephone cabin, she called a taxi to bring them all to the station.

“…we will get back around that time, yeah.” Trish was talking to Morrison and invented they got two flat tires at time and brought the car to the mechanic which didn’t have the right tire. “Tell Dante as well.” She added glancing at Vergil, who was busy checking the newsagent. “See you later, Morrison.” She hung the phone and turned to Lady. “I covered your ass for the time being. Find a nice excuse to use with Morrison. You have a little more than two hours.”

Lady was walking around the empty bench; Trish could hear her gears grinding in the desperate attempt at finding a way out of that situation.

“Morrison will kill me.”

“No, if you buy him a new car.”

“Damn it.”

Vergil waited for her to be behind the bench and sat down. He bought some magazines which, judging by the titles and the covers, didn’t seem aimed at an old man like him; he put them next to him and took one to read. Lady stopped her endless circling and grabbed another from the pile.

“What’s this? What food to eat to keep your baby healthy, discounts on strollers…” She muttered leafing through that magazine aimed at women. “Is this for Dante?”

“No, for me.” Vergil skipped the articles he didn’t mind and aimed at the ones who seemed to be of interest. “Books don’t seem to be enough.”

“Enough for what?” Lady sat next to him. “I doubt you will find anything in these pages. Dante’s condition is probably more unique than rare.”

“I know.”

On the train, Vergil kept reading with the same intensity as if he had set his hands on one of the most interesting books he had ever read in his life. Trish and Lady, who were sitting in front of him, threw glances until he stopped pretending he didn’t notice them and raised his head.

“Do you need something, by any chance?”

Lady snorted at his haughty voice. “Hey, why don’t you make an effort and be friendly for once?”

“You don’t exactly look friendly.”

“Not with you, of course.”

“Then why should I be?”

Trish didn’t have enough patient to deal with such a child-like behavior and interrupted them. “I don’t think that whatever answer you are looking for is in anything for humans. But I’m sure Dante is–”

“He ate raw eggplants and vegetables without no one forcing him.”

Lady looked at Trish and she saw on her face the same expression she was wearing. “Our Dante whose diet consists entirely of pizza and strawberry sundae turned to the dark side of vegetables?” She asked to make sure she didn’t mishear.

“Indeed.”

“Well…” Trish took one of the magazines. “…I know women tend to crave food during pregnancy.”

“Like watermelon.” Vergil nodded.

Trish wondered what brought up such a precise example but put her curiosity aside and shushed Lady who was about to ask. “It’s not that strange.”

“Yeah, better worry if Dante starts bleeding when he shouldn’t.” Lady agreed.

Vergil, and of course Dante as well, didn’t tell anyone how they became aware of Dante’s condition. That was the main reason Vergil was constantly worried that anything could happen to Dante: not because Dante couldn’t take care of himself, no matter the circumstances, but because he didn’t know how the baby was growing. He thought more than once that the baby might one day feel he wasn’t nourished enough and eat Dante again from the inside. The tension coming from that constant fear sometimes kept him awake reading a book more than he wanted to; the sensation of Dante’s weight on his chest and the sound of his calm breath weren’t enough to soothe his soul. Vergil didn’t like walking in the darkness without a concrete control on things: the only certainty was that all he could do was waiting for anything to happen, and the anxiety was always swinging on his head like a sword. He was aware that usually, when anything happened, it wasn’t a good thing.

Vergil would have rather gone back home on his own, but Lady and Trish followed him because they wanted to greet Dante. However, Dante wasn’t there. Light off, no sign of him anywhere. Vergil grabbed Mr. Fluffle who went to him to receive some cuddles and inspected every room.

Lady crossed her arms. “Classic Dante. He’s never here when you look for him.” She went for the kitchen. “I’m going to grab something to eat.”

The telephone rang, and Vergil came back downstairs. “Don’t act as if this is your home.” He scolded hearing a familiar rustling of packs of biscuits coming from the kitchen (but couldn’t see Lady’s middle finger). “Devil May Cry.” Trish noticed he was rigid when he pronounced the words, the polar opposite of the formality Dante dripped from each letter whenever he answered the phone.

Vergil frowned. “Dante?” Trish saw his eyebrows contracting and Lady came out from the kitchen with some biscuits in hand and one in her mouth. Vergil’s eyes widened. “What are you doing at the hospital?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When will Dante notice the tag?


	9. An apple a day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil goes boing boing.

A handful of instants were enough for Vergil’s brain to cut out all the functions it was put on earth to execute and focus solely on panic. Vergil felt fear exploding in his chest, rushing through his whole body and wave back to his stomach in a painful clench. It would probably take something to the level of Mundus brainwashing him to forget that nauseous sensation of being powerless and with zero control on the events unfolding around him; he reverted to the shivering child who witnessed his own house burning to ashes.

Few endless instants when he thought something irreparable happened. But then Dante hurried to tell him “I’m fine. Morrison broke his arm.” and the poisonous weight pressing on his chest evaporate, letting him breath normally.

In less than thirty minutes, Vergil, Lady and Trish were at the hospital. Finally, Vergil could erase the idea that Dante lied to him only to make him feel better: his brother was walking on his own legs and had no sign of whatsoever injury on him.

“What happened?” Lady a bit too worried, Dante noticed. “Who did that?”

“Some punks tried to rob him.”

She continued. “And where are the punks now? Did they arrest them?”

Dante hesitated. “Well…”

“Dante!” Lady urged him.

“I’m not sure if they’re gonna arrest them or Morrison, or everyone involved in the brawl.” He tilted his head at a policeman taking a coffee from the vending machine. “They are here to hear all the versions, but out of three, only one brat is able to speak right now. Unless they put him on sedatives already.”

“Did Morrison teach them a lesson?” Trish guessed.

“More than one. I think one of them won’t be able to eat anything solid for at least one month.”

Vergil intervened. “I don’t see the problem. Self-defense isn’t a crime. Or at least, it wasn’t many years ago.”

“It didn’t change.” Surprisingly, it was Lady who spoke. “But it’s difficult to imagine an old man kicking the ass of three boys.”

“I think I will imagine it pretty well from now on.” Dante commented.

“So you were there.” Trish chuckled. “Didn’t you help a poor old man?”

“I wanted to, but Morrison said I couldn’t pick a fight in my condition and beat the shit out of them.”

Lady sighed. “Being able of getting out of a fight only with a broken arm… he was lucky.”

“Actually, he tripped in a hole in the street. That’s how he broke his arm.” Dante explained. “But don’t tell him I told you, he still resents me because I kept laughing coming here. Even if I doubt he is awake right now.” Lady frowned at him. “They gave him sedatives because he was too angry and his blood pressure was skyrocketing.”

“Oh, now it’s the right moment to tell him then.”

Nobody answered to Dante’s _“Tell him what?”_. Lady dragged Trish with her, begging for her protection, as a demon’s flesh was more resistant than a human’s, and they left Dante and Vergil alone in the waiting room.

Dante turned to his brother. “What happened?”

“Lady destroyed Morrison’s car with her rocket launcher.”

Dante glanced at Vergil, then at the corridor where Lady and Trish disappeared, and then back at Vergil. “Well, this time they can’t blame it on me at least.” He walked back to the elevator.

“Where are you going?”

“There’s a cafeteria at the ground floor and I’m hungry. I haven’t had dinner yet, just some snacks from the vending machine.”

Vergil followed him and ordered something to eat as well. Dante chuckled at him and Vergil frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nice eating out from time to time. I didn’t use to do it.”

Before Vergil came back, he usually ate out only if Lady or Patty bothered him so much he had to give up, and that didn’t happen often. Dante noticed that many of his old patterns changed because now he lived with his brother, and it wasn’t because of his pregnancy: he stopped leaving too many clothes around, cleaned the toilet more often and kept the shutters open unless both left. Those were little things that weighed on him a lot in the past Maybe, even an old man like him still had time to change.

“So you like it.” Vergil stated.

“Do you?”

“Not having dishes to wash isn’t that bad.” He shrugged. “How was today?”

“Morrison kicking those punks’ asses was the most entertaining thing.”

“The old lady?”

“We watched a soap opera and she gave me tea and handmade biscuits. Nice afternoon. I brought home some for you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.” Dante leaned his head on the hand. “Are you worried about me?”

Vergil looked at his soft smile; it didn’t seem like he was mocking him. “Isn’t it normal, worrying about family?”

“It is.” Dante was emanating a bizarre energy Vergil wasn’t used to. “It’s a pity I can’t kiss you now.” He vented his frustration taking a bite of his sandwich. “I’ll keep it for when we get home.” His smile turned into an amused smirk.

Vergil smiled back. “I hope I will get more than a kiss. It’s been a rough day.”

“Have you forgotten about the biscuits already?” He joked. “Not as rough as Lady’s day, apparently.” Dante moved his head to point at Lady dragging her feet behind Trish. “Looks like Morrison hasn’t been given his sedatives yet.”

Vergil didn’t care much about her, but, looking at how her face, usually filled with pride and ready to throw malicious looks around, was now a mask of tired sadness, almost made him pity her.

“Had I known that car was so expensive…” She said falling sit on the chair. “…I would have blamed Vergil.”

Of course, that feeling didn’t have time to root in him that it was completely erased.

***

It had been a while since the last Dante and Vergil worked together. Vergil took in all the hunting jobs and let Dante trivial tasks like keeping company to old ladies, or doing groceries for people who worked all day long and had no time: Dante became the handyman, Vergil the hunter. Until Morrison dropped by the office asking them if they liked Easter.

“Only the chocolate it brings.” Dante commented. “Like Saint Valentine, but with bunnies.”

“So you like bunnies, good.”

Dante liked bunnies: they were nice to look at, were fluffy, and he liked them cooked as well. At first, he believed Morrison brought them some chocolate, but it was another job, and Dante was seriously afraid they had to take care of an army of bunnies. Actually, they had an army to keep at bay, but it was a bunch of swarming children who wanted to get their balloon and Easter eggs.

Dante was forced to shave for that job, and now he was handing children balloon, chocolate and the dream of taking a picture with the giant Easter Rabbit standing next to him: a huge light blue egg-shaped costume with limbs, ears and a snout to make it look like a rabbit. It was cute, but also funny, because Vergil was inside it and he had to cope with too many children who threw themselves at him in hugs powerful enough to make him lose his balance, hadn’t it been for his strength.

“How are you, Vergil?”

“Like five minutes ago, Dante.” Vergil grumbled in the break between one wave of children and the other. “Sweaty and hot in a context I don’t like being like this.”

“We are working with children. Keep it for tonight.” Dante filled his basket again with chocolate eggs, grabbed a bunch of balloons and was ready to welcome the children one more time. He raised his voice. “Who wants to hug the Easter Rabbit?”

Vergil couldn’t help but think about a hungry dog reacting to a juicy piece of meat when he saw the children running at him, triggered by Dante’s cheerful call. He had to brace himself not to fall down and neither make any movement that could hurt or injure any of the children. Vergil couldn’t relate to their happiness of touching and hugging what clearly was a mask with someone inside and not the real Easter Rabbit – who didn’t even exist, to begin with. But they hugged him, told him “I love you.” and waited for the adults with them to take pictures with him while making the victory sign or just smiling awkwardly at the camera. Then, they grabbed their balloon and chocolate from Dante before dashing back filled to the brim with joy.

Of course, there were few exceptions to the general happiness. Some parents forced their kids to get close to the Easter Rabbit, despite the horror was clearly overflowing from their watery eyes ready to burst tears out the very moment they would be too close for them to handle; Vergil just stayed sill without knowing what to do, and Dante grabbed the children from their armpits and brought them back to their parents at the first signs of tears.

That job ended around six in the afternoon, together with Vergil’s suffering: the costume inside became an inferno he could barely endure, and Vergil spent half of his life in Hell. He didn’t have a good view because of the mask blurring his line of sight. He aimed for the door to the changing room, but the rabbit’s body was so thick he couldn’t face it forwards, so he tried turning on his side. Vergil took one step, then another. And he got stuck.

He heard Dante’s laugh coming from his right side. “Dante, don’t laugh and help me!”

“Okay, okay.” Dante was still chuckling when he pushed Vergil with all his strength, making him pop to the other side and flip on the clumsy bulky paws. Vergil tumbled down lying face up; it would be easy for him to get up, hadn’t the arms and legs of the costume been shorter than his limbs so he couldn’t bend them.

Dante laughed again and was sure his brother was throwing darts at him with his eyes through the thick mask. “Here, get up little rabbit. I saved some chocolate for us.”

As soon as Vergil was back on his feet, he almost threw the head away and inhaled fresh air: he didn’t remember how nice it was breathing air which didn’t seem coming from inside an oven. He turned to Dante, still resentful of how he mocked him, but something made him forget about his vengeance.

“What’s wrong, Dante?”

Dante had covered two small chocolate eggs under the straw of his basket and took them out now that nobody was around. “Huh?” He tilted his head at Vergil.

“You are pale.”

“Dealing with children isn’t a piece of cake.” He pointed out. “And those parents who kept bringing their children to you even when they were about to cry…” He made a strange verse. “…they kept getting on my nerves.” Vergil had half of the costume still hanging from his waist and had to stop taking it off because Dante threw one egg at him. “Chocolate will make us feel better.”

“You feel low on sugars?”

“No, I want some chocolate. It’s been since I saw those kids eating it as if it was the most delicious thing in the world.”

Vergil got out of the costume first, then unwrapped the egg and tasted a tiny bit. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t either different from any other types of chocolates he could find at the market near home. He ate some more, because he realized he was actually hungry.

“Don’t you like it?” He noticed Dante wrapped his egg back and put it away.

“Mh, it has a strange taste, I don’t know.”

Vergil was quite sure the taste was very similar to a kind of chocolate Dante bought from time to time, but probably there was a faint flavor which wasn’t suited to his brother’s tastes. Due to many years spent without eating any proper food, Vergil wasn’t able to differentiate food’s flavors unless they were two completely different kinds. He didn’t mind Dante’s reaction until they got home.

Dante closed the door and went straight to the bathroom. Nothing unusual, Vergil thought, but he changed his mind as soon as he heard him coughing. After the first cough, he wasn’t worried; after the third one followed by noises of something liquid falling into water, Vergil stood up and went to him. Dante was almost hugging the toilet while vomiting in it.

“Dante.” Vergil knelt next to him and combed his hair back to avoid the locks falling on his face. “You felt sick and didn’t tell me.” He was worried and angry at the same time.

“Hey, it happened all of a sudden.” He coughed a gush of saliva. “I was just a bit nauseous, I thought I was hungry.” He coughed again, but nothing came out. “My mouth tastes like shit.”

How hilarious that in the span of a day, he went from being okay and ready to take on a job to being stuck in bed. The sensation of being on the verge of puking didn’t fade away, and he had a bucket ready near him; his throat was dry, but he was afraid he would have vomited again if he drank some water.

Vergil sat next to him and caressed his head. Dante smiled at him.

“I should eat something, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes. I’d rather not have you being eaten from the baby. At least until you have cleared all your debts.”

Dante chuckled. “You hurt me, brother. I thought you loved me.”

Vergil bended and kissed his forehead. “I do.” He muttered. “What do you want to eat?”

“Right now, nothing. Your choice, okay?”

Dealing with physical injuries was easier: even if they didn’t heal immediately, after few days neither the scars remained on his body. Dante could take swords in his chest, could be smashed into walls, kicked on the face, roasted, shocked and frozen, but his body would always heal on its own. However, he could count on the fingers of one hand the times when he was sick and unable to recover in a short span of time. Having demon blood granted him a high resistance against illnesses, but it was also an unknown variable if anything new happened to him. In that case, he didn’t know what to do, mostly because it was probably some nausea due to the pregnancy, but not being able to put anything in his stomach could be harmful for the baby – and for him.

Dante had spent his life facing demons of any kind, he defeated Mundus and Argosax, the most powerful demons in Hell; he stood the same ground of his brother when he was a tentacled giant powered by a human blood sucking tree, and probably became one of the strongest creatures in the world. And yet, now he was scared because of a little defenseless creature growing inside him and his lack of resources to resolve that situation. Being powerless made him tremble like he used to do when he was a child, but back then all he needed to do was getting in his brother’s bed and holding his hand to be at peace again.

Dinner was ready, and Dante felt back in shape enough to go down and eat sitting at the table, but not to be hungry, apparently. He took few mouthfuls of chicken, but it was like eating cardboard. “It’s good, really.” He tried drinking some water. “I just don’t feel hungry.”

“I see.”

“I can stay quite the time without eating.” Dante tapped the fingers on the table. “But the kid can’t.”

Vergil grabbed his hands nervously under the table, he made sure Dante didn’t notice. “Maybe you can try later.”

“I may eat few things every one hour, it should work somehow.” He was trying to sound calm, as if he knew everything would be fine.

“Yeah, it will.”

Dante wanted to help Vergil doing the dishes, because he just couldn’t sit somewhere and wait for him to finish, but as the nausea struck again, he was forced to lean on the sofa. Mr. Fluffle jumped on his lap and spread on his legs; without demanding any scratch or caress, he purred loudly against Dante’s stomach.

“Hey…” Dante smiled and rubbed behind his ears. “…you usually purr only if I’ve been scratching your ears for ages. What’s up tonight? Do you need money to go out with your friends?”

Mr. Fluffle meowed and swung his tail once. Despite he was already leaning on Dante and ready to take one of his countless naps, he stood on his rear paws and raised to poke his nose against his chin.

“All kissy kissy tonight.” Dante kissed his head. “Something nice happened?” It was like he understood something was wrong and, as a cat, all he could do was staying close to him.

Vergil found Dante lazily stroking Mr. Fluffle, who was purring so loud it almost covered the volume of the television.

“Anything interesting?”

“Not much.”

Vergil sat next to him and welcomed Dante’s head on his arm. He looked at him and remembered Dante always used to sneak into his bed when he woke up at night and couldn’t go back to sleep because he was afraid of darkness and what it could lurk in it. Even if Vergil complained, because Dante always woke him up in the process, he never kicked him out. He remembered what he said after scolding him.

“There’s no reason to be scared, Dante.”

And Dante always pouted at him. But now, as an adult, he chuckled and pretended everything was alright. “I’m not scared, Vergil.” Saying that, his hand slipped into Vergil’s and held it tight. “…how about we surprise Nero and go to Fortuna? It’s been a while since the last I had a holiday.”

“What about Hell?”

“I was on a duty to keep an eye on you for Nero, so I was technically working.”

“An eye on me, huh?” Vergil smirked. “They paid me well for killing that demon in the mansion the other day. We will use that money.”

Dante glanced at Mr. Fluffle. “And who will take care of him? I haven’t found a family, yet.”

***

Nero had many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know if he wanted to ask first Dante why he was keeping the cat at the leash like a dog, why they brought the cat or why he had one a ribbon which looked like one of Mr. Fluffle’s to keep his hair tied.

“Your hair has grown longer.” It slipped out from his mouth.

“It’s been a while since we last met and you don’t even greet me?” Nero took Dante’s bag from his hand. “Hey!”

“When we met after some years you called me deadweight. Don’t complain.”

Vergil allows himself a satisfied smile. “Glad to see you are doing fine, Nero.”

“We’re pulling through.”

The bus was more like a small van; except some people who worked in nearby towns (which meant about one hour by bus), there weren’t many regular customers, and this, added to the decades of closure because of the Order, Fortuna was cut out from the railway service. Unless anything big happened, Fortuna would slowly die on itself.

Dante looked at the skyline: some of the buildings he remembered were smashed by the Savior, and all the debris were shoveled away, but nothing replaced the evident voids. There were some people walking down the main street, but that didn’t seem a lively town.

“Fortuna doesn’t have a bad design.” Dante commented watching at the old church in the distance. “Tourism wouldn’t be so wasted here.”

“They thought about that, but the hard core from the Order still exists. Just old jeezers who have money.” He added to explain there was no risk of another Sanctus to rise and take power. “Even if they aren’t that powerful anymore, they don’t want foreigners in here and many citizens still cling to what they say.”

“I thought high of them. I believed after few years they would understand what happened.”

“Many believe that the one behind all that fuss was, well…” Nero pointed at Dante. “…you.”

“I hope they won’t recognize me with different clothes.”

“Last time you didn’t need a ribbon to keep your hair tidy, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Dante expected the glances aimed at him, what he didn’t like was how some people avoided to walk on the same side of the road and pretended Nero didn’t exist. Some others raised their hands in greetings, and Nero greeted back, but it still felt odd.

“I was a knight of the Order. Some still blame me because I survived and some of their friends or family didn’t.”

Vergil emitted a sarcastic note. “If they are weak, they only must blame themselves.”

“But blaming others is easier.” Dante cut his complains off and looked up at the orangish sky. “Oh, I knew it I remembered well: there is a hotel here.” He made a nod with his head to point at the sign _hotel_ hanging from a building.

“Some hunters still come during hunting season.”

“And the rest of the year the business relies on sex workers?” Dante was kidding, but Nero nodded, so he decided it was time to shift the topic to something which wasn’t pointing out how that town was falling into self-destruction. “He seems to like here.”

Mr. Fluffle didn’t remain into Dante’s arms, but jumped down as soon as they got off the bus. He didn’t leave Dante’s side, making the leash seemingly useless, and kept sniffing around like a dog would do. Probably, he was one of the reasons everyone kept throwing glances at them.

“I thought you wanted to find him a new home.” Nero looked at Vergil, who just looked at him as if the answer was obvious. “Why did you bring him?”

“I asked Patty if she could take care of him for a couple of days, but he thought I was going to dump him there for good and didn’t want to stay.” Mr. Fluffle scratched his arms almost in terror, as if Dante was abandoning him. “Morrison and the girls couldn’t, we had no choice.”

“I thought cats could perfectly take care of themselves for a couple of day.”

Dante chuckled. “Hey, he is a cat, not a stuffed toy. I don’t want to find his little presents around the house because we left for more than few hours because he felt lonely. He would be right. and I couldn’t scold him.”

Nero took that as a twisted confession of his attachment for the cat. “I just hope he likes kids.”

Mr. Fluffle didn’t like kids. Or better, he didn’t care about kids until one of them, to get his attention while he was minding his own business on the armrest of the sofa, pulled his tail. Instead of scratching the boy, Mr. Fluffle hissed and run to climb up to Vergil’s shoulders, where the children couldn’t follow him.

Kyrie stopped any complaint coming from the kids and excused on their behalf to Vergil.

“They are children.” She added as if that settled everything.

Vergil didn’t think being children was enough of an excuse to act like that, but he didn’t want to make the situation more complicated than it was already, so he just nodded and went locking Mr. Fluffle in the room they were given for those two nights. The cat curled on one of the two beds, seemingly satisfied that Vergil took that decision and allowed him to not interact anymore with strangers.

“Nero.” After dinner, Dante managed to stop him in a rare moment when neither Nico nor the kids were swarming around him. “Kyrie and Nico don’t know why we are here, right?”

Nico was a chatter, and her presence managed to bury all the awkward moments of silence that loomed above their heads. She talked about trivial things that happened to them, from Nero trying to cook his very first cake and fail to the kids learning from her how to build a mechanical arm, until she run out of cartridges. In that moment, Dante thought that asking Kyrie how things had changed in Fortuna since when he left was a nice move; Kyrie smiled and explained that many citizens were going through hardships, but the money and machinery left from the Order were slowly helping them getting back on their feet. Dante guessed she left out all the downsides on purpose, either because she didn’t want to ruin the mood or either because she was a person who tended to see the good sides in any person and situation. He felt bad when she noticed he didn’t eat much, and Dante came up with a clumsy excuse that he had been having less appetite lately due to some stress at work; with the corner of his eye, he saw Nero wilting in the chair as if tension disappeared from his body all of a sudden.

“It is a stressful job, isn’t it?” Kyrie’s smile looked a bit tense. “Sometimes, Nero too seems stressed.” But that conversation didn’t go anywhere further, because Nico claimed it was dessert time.

“…yeah. I just don’t know how to tell them.” Nero wasn’t looking at Dante and found the view of the empty road through the window very interesting. “I mean, Nico would definitely tell Kyrie, she just can’t keep things from her.”

“I get it, don’t make that face.” Dante ruffled his hair until Nero pulled his head away. “We won’t tell a thing. Just two old men enjoying a nice tour in a nice town and dropped by to visit their nice boy.”

“Heh, Fortuna isn’t that nice.”

“We can just pretend it.”

Nero massaged his neck. “So… you can’t eat because of the baby?”

“Yeah, probably. A troublemaker like your father.” Dante caught Nero’s worry in his face. “You aren’t good at pretending, you know?”

“Pretending what?” Nero couldn’t avoid Dante’s arm locked around his neck and he was unable to stop him rubbing his knuckles on the top of his head. “Ouch ouch! What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking your worry out of your brain.”

“What the hell?!” Nero pushed Dante aside, then he remembered and looked guilty. “Ah shit, I didn’t want to–”

“I’m not that weak. I survived a whole month sleeping under my brother’s tree and kicked his ass ten minutes after I woke up, remember?”

There was no way Nero could ever forget that Dante was strong, and yet, he couldn’t help but feel worried because for once there was something Dante couldn’t handle. The days between Urizen kicking his ass the first time and his return to Redgrave City passed slowly, glued to his fear that when he left, Dante died because everything was bigger than him. But then Dante came back and saved him and everything was okay again, until he had to stop those two idiots from killing each other. Then, knowing Dante was with Vergil, gave Nero the hope he could see both of them sooner or later – yes, he believed Vergil would have just disappeared again from his life if left on his own.

Dante was the one who always saved the situation, even when it looked like he was done for, so Nero felt lost because for once Dante met too big of an obstacle for him to overcome it. They just had to wait and see what could happen.

Nero shrugged. “Maybe we can make a tour of Fortuna tomorrow.”

“Without giant naked statues of my father floating around?”

“We ran out of them.”

Dante smiled at his chuckle. “What a pity, huh?”

Somehow, having Dante there who acted like usual, managed to calm Nero down and he slept all night long only to be awakened by some grumbles coming from the room nearby his and Kyrie’s. Nero woke up startling and he immediately believed Dante and Vergil overcame the problem of having two separate beds and decided for an early morning quickie (the sun was barely raising). But then, he realized that they were talking – no, arguing, they were arguing.

Nero got up, careful not to awake Kyrie, and went to their room. “What’s wrong?” He realized one second too late he could have knocked, but they weren’t naked and busy in some action that would have probably put Nero in a very uncomfortable position.

“See?” Dante pointed at him. “You woke Nero up.” He sounded sleepy, as if he was forced to wake up.

“Don’t change topic.” Vergil almost yawned, he didn’t sound as angry as Nero believed he would be. “I’m just telling you this is why I don’t want the cat sleeping with us at home. You had to see it.”

Nero frowned. “What happened?”

“Vergil woke up with Mr. Fluffle’s butt on his face and is now complaining.” Dante explained quickly and went back under the covers. “Five more minutes.”

“Tsk, you always want to be right, don’t you, Dante?” Vergil turned to the other side and leaned his head on the pillow. “I’ll get up in a while.”

Nero closed the door, a bit disgruntled because of what had just happened. Then, he opened it again and scolded them both. “Now you two get up, so we get prepared and go before the kids wake up!” He couldn’t believe they were able to argue on everything.

Dante didn’t eat almost anything for breakfast, just some cereals and a tad bit of milk. He had been trying to eat a little each hour, but he wasn’t eating the same amount of food as before. He wasn’t hungry, as he was back then when he believed he was just gaining weight, but he had no idea how things were evolving in there.

“…and this is the school.”

Nero had already brought Vergil sightseeing, now was Dante’s turn. There were many things to see in Fortuna, but it turned into the shadow of the town it once was: it looked like since the Order was dismantled (by Nero and Dante), nobody had truly tried to save Fortuna from decadence and, instead, the population kept more or less going through the isolation path they were set on. Unfortunately, without the solid lead and incoming from the Order, it was a balance that was intended to break. Dante noticed the inhabitants stopped being dressed all the same like in a cheap play and discovered the joy of wearing different clothes: no more antique caps, dresses and hoods. Someone still stuck to the old fashion, but at least the younger ones managed to go one step further. The long isolation gave Fortuna a medieval flavor which definitely would bring it to its knees, if the inhabitants didn’t use this unique characteristic to open up instead of grinding on the idea that alone was better.

“It looks bigger from the outside.” Dante commented. “The tour is already over.”

“Once you know it, there’s less than you expect.” Nero agreed. “I kinda like going around in the van more.” The van might be small and always filled with useless stuff because of Nico, but Nero felt lighter when he was on the road to hunt demons and sometimes he wished Kyrie would just reach him wherever he was, instead of going back to her.

Vergil interrupted them. “Where is this machinery we can use?”

The equipment was one of the leftovers in the old storage of the Order nearby the port. It was too big to be moved alone just by Nero, but Nico helped him to make it work.

“I tried it out. I have a dope skeleton.” Nero had to start an old battery to make the body scan work. The screen buzzed a bit before turning on.

“Are we sure this won’t explode?” Vergil didn’t seem as convinced as he was when he heard of that.

“If there’s one thing I know for sure, is that the Order spent enough money to make stuff that won’t explode. Unless you shoot at it.” Nero reassured him.

“Did you shoot at some machinery?” Dante asked and was satisfied (and proud) at the positive nod of the head.

“I peeled potatoes lots of times because I recklessly shot demons and machineries all together.”

Dante didn’t really feel comfortable at the idea of entering that cage built by someone from the Order, but he didn’t have another choice or a solution which didn’t involve shocking some doctor because he was carrying a baby, so he leaned down and the cage closed above him.

Seeing him disappear in there, Mr. Fluffle jumped on the machinery from Vergil’s arms and started pawing at the metal, letting out some small meows.

“Don’t worry little one.” From inside, Dante tapped on the metal, and Mr. Fluffle calmed down. “I’m fine. Even if here doesn’t look very nice. This is a creepy design.”

At least, it was cleaned and not covered in dust like everything else in there. He glanced around, but from the little small openings he could only see threatening metal corpses abandoned in there for years.

“Nothing from the Order looks nice, Dante. Do you remember Agnus?”

Dante hummed. “Who?”

“The mad scientist you k-k-k-killed.” He faked a stammer and suddenly recalled all the disgust he felt for that man: still today, he couldn’t believe how Nico could be the daughter of such a smarmy person. “Big moth, monocle.”

“Oh, that one.”

“Yep.”

Dante chuckled. “Kyrie seems nice though.”

“She isn’t really from the Order.”

Vergil noticed how Nero was keeping Dante busy with that trivial conversation while he was making that thing work, but he listened only to half of what they were saying; his eyes were fixed on the screen which showed only a bluish color. All of a sudden, something clicked and the screen turned on: there was Dante’s body’s outline filled with bones, organs and…

“Okay wait. Nico told me I can zoom in just like…” Nero pressed some buttons and pulled a lever. “…that?”

The screen went black for few seconds, then the image appeared again, but only the portion around Dante’s stomach which became bigger and more detailed. Nero glanced at the screen, then looked at Vergil staring at it with an unreadable plain face.

“What’s wrong?” Dante moved, and the image shifted with him. “Is this thing working already?”

“Don’t move! The image doesn’t stay fixed on the screen.” Nero warned him. “I think I can take a photo or some shit.”

Vergil didn’t mind Dante complaining to fool around a bit with Nero, because he enjoyed when the boy lost his temper and snapped at him. He looked at the blurred miniature baby with a gigantic head and small limbs which resembled to the countless images he saw in the books he hoped could help them understand a bit more what Dante was going through. The baby looked so frail and defenseless, and yet he was there, gently curled on himself, safe inside Dante’s body.

“Vergil!” He heard Dante’s voice and looked at him. “I asked you how does the baby look.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Vergil looked again at the screen. “The baby looks like a bean.” He said seriously. “Yes, a bean.”

Then, all of a sudden, the baby turned into something else: there were more bones, more organs, as if something appeared inside Dante’s body. Vergil jolted and blinked twice, but the weird image remained there, so he looked at the cage were Dante was in.

“You are two and nobody kept an eye on the cat? Really?” Dante complained. “No, it’s not nap time. Don’t curl on my stomach!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kikipancakes let me use her idea for some comic relief in the chapter (https://twitter.com/kikipancakes/status/1262776576971640832?s=20)


	10. I <3 shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in the world are Dante's t-shirts?

A weekend without sex wasn’t a big deal. Dante and Vergil fucked almost on a daily basis, but they could endure some abstinence, especially if it was just a couple of days. However, Dante felt itchy and restless. A bizarre nervousness took him over the day they left Fortuna, as if something was about to happen and he just sensed it without being able to give a proper explanation – his intuition, or just a fear, he didn’t know, because he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason he would feel like that. There were no demons, nor enemies nearby, Vergil was sure of it, and yet, Dante couldn’t stay on his seat for more than five minutes before getting up and using the toilet as an excuse. He walked back and forth, pushed by an invisible worry; Mr. Fluffle sensed his mood, and he didn’t try once getting out of his carrier, as he kept doing during the round trip.

“Are you feeling sick?” Vergil asked after the third time Dante returned and sat in front of him.

“No. I’m fine.”

Dante glanced at his brother, who had the jacket tidily folded on his knees and used it like a support for the book he was reading. His eyes wandered from the long fingers to the strong arms and stopped at the first two buttons of the shirt Vergil opened due to the excessive warmth in the wagon. Dante stared at the line of his neck, then observed the pinkish lips slightly disclosed and admired the severe line of the eyebrows giving his eyes a dignified look.

Vergil raised his head. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Huh?” Dante had his head leant on the back of his hand, he looked surprised. “No, why?”

“You’ve been staring at me.”

“Have I?”

Vergil went back to his book, and Dante stood up again. “Toilet.” He grumbled climbing over the legs of the man who was sleeping next to him.

His skin felt warm, and a stingy itch he couldn’t scratch away crawled beneath it. Dante rubbed his left elbow and queued behind an old woman. He tried to refrain from glancing back at the corridor leading to his seat, but his eyes always ended up looking at Vergil, who was too busy in his reading to notice that not so far away from him, his little brother was two seconds from wetting his underwear. All his self-control wasn’t enough to stop his skin from tingling, as if Vergil was teasing him with his tongue – oh no, his body reacted to that fantasy. Dante didn’t want to imagine his brother nibbling his neck, sucking his nipples and licking his belly, but his mind betrayed him, flashing in front of his eyes clear memories of Vergil between his legs.

His pussy was leaking, and the old woman was still inside. Dante couldn’t tell if he was washing her hands already, because the loud clatter of the train covered any other noise in that space between the two wagons. He leaned his back against the window and pressed his thighs together, without finding any relief. His head wasn’t numbed enough for him to touch himself where at least six or seven people could see him, but he would have definitely grinded against something to soothe a little the itchy pleasure tickling him between his legs, if only he could.

The moment the woman got out, Dante locked himself in the toilet. He pulled his trousers to the knees, feeling a faint freedom, and sat on the toilet sit. There was a stain on his underwear, and later he would probably feel uncomfortable, but having the sensation of something wet against your pussy was way better than having the constant tease of your pussy being wet without any chance of release. Dante raised the hem of his t-shirt and munched it in the sloppy attempt of muffling his voice. He had never been so satisfied of having his fingers on his clit to rub his frustration away as the pleasure built up inside him. It was so fast that he almost didn’t enjoy the shivers running thought his body at each stroke, and he didn’t even resist enough to slip one or two fingers inside his body. Dante groaned against the cloth, and his body wilted as the orgasm faded away.

_ Knock knock. _

The t-shirt slipped from Dante’s mouth, he froze in the fear of having been caught, and yet, his body twitched at the thought someone out there heard his lewd moans and wet noises. “Yeah, I’m almost done.” His voice was a bit husky, and, he was far from being done: the quiet tiredness after the climax vanished in thin air, and his pussy burnt again in need. The fire spread through his whole body, and Dante knew he couldn’t get out like that.

“Dante, open this door.”

Vergil knocked again, and Dante exhaled a relieved breath. “Five more minutes.” Just the time of stuffing some fingers inside my greedy pussy, he said to himself.

“I’ll smash the door then.”

Maybe Dante was twisting his brother’s voice, pretending it sounded almost as deep as when he turned into a demon, but he didn’t really care if it was the truth or just a silly trick of his mind, because Vergil got under his skin.

The door clicked unlocked, and Vergil stepped in. His scent invaded the small space, so aggressive that Dante was immediately drunk on it – did he smell like that before too? Vergil closed the door and pinned Dante against the opposite wall.

“You should have told me.” He panted almost ripping Dante’s trousers open again.

“It happened all of a sudden, and the toilet was closer than you.” Dante didn’t want to sound like he was scolding Vergil, as if it was his fault for not being there, but he did.

“Take your boots off.”

Of course, Vergil sounded pissed, but only because Dante wasn’t already half naked to be freely taken by him. Dante threatened to bite him with a snap of his jaws as Vergil tried to kiss him as he bent to obey him; Vergil growled, but waited until Dante kicked his boots aside to assault him. Dante didn’t react, and Vergil pulled his trousers down to his calves, so he just had to walk out of them. In a matter of seconds, he was pinned against the wall.

Vergil’s hard cock was pushing in need against his groin, and Dante wanted it inside. His brother’s scent inebriated him like the scent of alcohol, and his head spun, his mind numbed, but his body became more sensitive to any stimulus. Vergil grabbed his thighs, so Dante could put his legs around his waist and feel his dick piercing through his wet pussy.

If it wasn’t for the loud clatter of the train, someone would have probably heard the rhythmic wet sounds of Vergil thrusting inside Dante, or their ragged breaths and husky voices broken in moans. Dante barely realized Vergil came until his moves became sloppier, and he wasn’t feeling him with the same intensity as before. The pleasure faded to leave place to an unbearable itching pain.

“I haven’t come, yet.” Dante whined, and Vergil knelt.

“Keep your mouth shut.” Vergil gave him a last warning and he took his pussy inside his mouth. He tasted his own cum dripping along Dante’s thighs, and cleaned his brother to the last drop. But the more he licked and sucked, the more Dante leaked and his legs trembled. He was biting on his t-shirt to muffle his delighted cries and was slowly sliding his back down the wall. “Can’t you stand on your legs until I’m done here?” Vergil’s mind was clearer after the orgasm, and he was able to control himself and not being dragged much by the delicious image of his brother squirming and fighting to hold his voice as he roughly fingered him to the climax. Dante fell on his knees, short of breath and sweaty; he had his lips slightly opened and his face was red.

“Wash your face.” Vergil scolded him.

“That’s not the only thing I need to wash.” That floor wasn’t exactly a nice spot to put his bare ass on. “The shower is mine when we are back.”

Dante spent the rest of the travel without his underwear, which he dumped in the trash bin in the toilet because it was too wet to wear it back. Vergil didn’t forget his brother discarded that piece of cloth, but, when Dante took his trousers off in the bathroom to enter the shower, he stared at his round ass as if he didn’t expect that view. His eyes roamed along Dante’s back, inspecting how his muscles tended as he raised the hems of his t-shirt.

“Hey Vergil, I was thinking–” Dante turned around. “–oh, come on!”

“It is. Moreover, that train was dirty, and I am covered in sweat.” Vergil unbuttoned the last button of his shirt, then passed to the trousers. “I won’t wait until you are done.”

“It’s not like it takes me thirty minutes to shower like someone I know.” Dante climbed into the bathtub. Pushing an arm against Vergil’s chest wasn’t enough to stop him; he was tired and dirty and wanted to get clean, so he gave up. “Yeah sure, please come in, so we’ll take a shower together.”

It was a bit distressful, not because they were so close they kept bumping into each other, but because each time Dante turned the hot water faucet to the right, Vergil turned it to the left to make the water colder.

“Dante, fresher water would help your body and our bills.”

“That’s why I don’t want us to take the shower together.” Dante turned the faucet again, but he put a bit too much emphasis and the spray of water became a bit too hot for him as well, so he was forced to turn it back.

“We showered together only once, and it was when we got back from Hell.”

“Yeah, good times. My belly didn’t look like a balloon back then.”

“It doesn’t look like a balloon. It just looks softer.” Vergil liked how Dante’s belly rolls showed when he sat down in bed or when he was curled on himself. He couldn’t enjoy that view when his little brother was wearing some clothes, but he still could feel them under his fingers.

“Soft and big.” Dante finished rinsing his hair from the shampoo and grabbed the sponge. He tended his arm to take the soap bottle, but as he felt Vergil’s body pressing against his back, and his arms around his waist, he stopped the hand in midair and bent the arm back to pat his brother’s head. “Do you need some cuddles?”

Vergil took the sponge from his hand, grabbed the bottle and poured the white soap on it. He squished it until it sprouted foam, then he rubbed Dante’s shoulders and traced the line of his back.

“It would be nice if you gave me a back massage.” Dante joked.

“I thought you enjoyed another kind of massage.”

Dante chuckled, because of those words and because the sponge on his belly was a bit ticklish. Vergil drew small circles and with the free hand he spread the foam along his right thigh; he slid the sponge from his belly button to between his legs and massaged him there.

“Vergil…” Dante turned his head, and Vergil kissed him on the lips.

The sponge fell at their feet. Vergil moved the hair back from Dante’s face, he enjoyed the water falling inside his mouth in the small breaks between their kisses. Dante felt his hard dick pressing against his ass.

“Aren’t you a bit too horny today?” Dante followed Vergil’s gentle push and put his back against the wet wall. Vergil grabbed his right thigh to raise his leg, his fingers slightly touched his clit to rip a pleased sigh out of his lips.

“I thought I’ve said it already.” Vergil slid inside him to the hilt so easily that Dante felt his breath breaking, and he gasped for some air. “I am always eager to skewer you.”

They kissed again.

***

All of a sudden , Dante ate again. Vergil didn’t know if it was because of the trip in Fortuna, or if Dante just needed a new sexual adventure to satisfy his sexual appetite and stimulate his food cravings. He woke up and ate breakfast, then he ate lunch, he nibbled some biscuits around 5 pm and then ate all his dinner. However, Vergil kept observing him and didn’t stop being concerned until one week passed and Dante still had his normal appetite.

“Why are all my t-shirts so tight?” Dante was rustling in a drawer. “Vergil!” He called him and received no answer. “Vergil!” Again, there was no response, so Dante had to walk downstairs. The noises coming from the kitchen guided Dante there. “Vergil!”

“Dante, I’m busy.”

Vergil looked at the recipe book next to him, then back at the bowl, at the book and at the bowl again.

“What are you cooking?”

“Cheesecake. Nico said Nero likes it, but I think the batter is too liquid.”

Dante was about to dip the index in the white batter, but Vergil slapped his hand with the wooden spoon.

“Ouch! That hurts!”

“Don’t-you-dare.” Vergil pointed the spoon at him the same way he would have with Yamato. Then, he sank the spoon into the batter and made it drip from few centimeters above the bowl. “I thought it should be thicker.”

“Yeah, after few hours in the fridge. Have you put in the gelatin?”

“The what?” Vergil went again through the ingredients list. “Isn’t that an optional ingredient?”

“…no. Without gelatin, it won’t turn as solid as a cheesecake should be.”

“But gelatin isn’t that think you coat fruit tart with?” Vergil remembered when their mother used it, and he didn’t like its texture, so he decided to not use that ingredient.

“Yes. It helps the cheesecake solidify. And it doesn’t become jelly, it just helps the process.” Dante remembered the transparent gelatin left in Vergil’s plate after he devoured his slice of fruit tart.

Vergil undid his apron, rolled it into a ball and threw it on the table. “I must buy some then.”

“Wait, I’ll come too. I need something to wear.”

“Last time I checked, you had plenty of clothes.”

Dante, who was going back to the front office, turned around. “They are all tight-fitting, Vergil, I can’t go around like that. And my t-shirts keep disappearing.”

Vergil didn’t reply, not because he turned softer to Dante, but because he was quite surprised at how pissed Dante sounded just over a simple piece of cloth. His brother, who used to go around with his clothes dirtied in mud as a child and without wearing anything but a flashy coat as a teenager, was making a fuss over some clothes who he thought were too tight-fitting for him now.

“Maybe they are to be washed.”

“I checked in the laundry basket. They aren’t there.”

Vergil wondered if he threw them that day he decided they couldn’t have a wardrobe which looked like it was about to burst due to all the old clothes his brother never cared to discard.

“Talking about laundry, Dante, it’s been a while you are forever leaving your drawer half-open.”

“What? That’s not true. It was closed when I checked it now.”

“Because _I_ closed it.”

Dante snorted. “Yeah, you are always right, big brother. Now, don’t you need gelatin? Let’s go to the mall.”

Vergil decided to let the quarrel stop there. “Yes, let’s go.”

Dante found Mr. Fluffle perched on the shelf, curled on one of Vergil’s books. “Hey, do you want to come?” The cat jumped down into Dante’s arms for some scratches, but he was soon satisfied and went hiding behind the corner bar. “I guess that’s a no.”

When they were about to go out, Dante tried one more time. “Hey, we are leaving.” Mr. Fluffle meowed once at the leash but didn’t put his head in it as he used to do when he was eager to go out together with them.

“Dante, the cat doesn’t want to come.” Vergil hurried him. “He can take care of himself.”

Vergil was quick to find the missing ingredient, and went back to the clothes shop he left Dante in. He found his brother standing in a zone of the shop where Vergil wasn’t expecting to find him: instead of checking the male clothes, he was looking at some tiny overalls which would probably fit to newborn babies.

“Dante.”

The moment he called him, the piece of cloth almost slipped from Dante’s hands, and he turned around emitting some stutters before talking normally. “Have you finished already?”

“Yes, and you haven’t.” Vergil didn’t see any bag around Dante, meaning he wasted his time in there. “What are you doing?”

“I was just looking around.” Dante almost shoved the tiny pink overall under Vergil’s nose. “How do you even put this to a baby?”

“Dante, we have time until September.”

“Yes, I know. It’s useless thinking about it now. I mean, this is for summertime.”

“And we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.”

Dante shrugged. “Who cares? I mean, pink or blue, the baby will look good in it.” He massaged the back of his head. “But it’s not just the clothes. What about the… uhm, stroller. And the baby bottle, the milk, all the baby stuff which exists and we don’t know about? What’s better to buy? I have no idea.”

“Neither do I.” Vergil looked at his brother folding clumsily the overall to put it back. “Come out with me.”

“What? I haven’t bought anything yet.”

“Later. I’m hungry now.”

It was difficult that Vergil complained because he was hungry. Back in Hell, he was the one who could walk and fight for days without lamenting lack of good food, or just of something to put in their stomachs. On the other hand, Dante spent most of the rests between the fights fantasizing about good food and drooling at the thought of it. In the human world as well, Vergil was worried about food when it came to Dante. If he was planning something, Dante didn’t know, but he wouldn’t refuse an ice cream.

They sit at a table outside the ice cream shop in the mall. Vergil, without checking the menu, raised his hand to make sign to the waiter, and asked for a piece of paper and a pen.

“What are you planning?” Dante asked leafing through the menu to see if they had the strawberry sundae. “You usually aren’t in to eat outside, if not for lunch or dinner.”

“Did you want to buy something for the baby?”

“What? No! I was just taking a look. It’s way too early!” Dante laughed at that. “Oh nice, they have the strawberry sundae.”

The waiter brought the paper and the pen. Vergil clicked on the top to make the tip appear. “You said stroller.” Vergil made a little dash and then wrote _stroller_ in an elegant handwriting. “And baby bottle, right?”

“What are you doing?”

“A list of what we will need. It’s early, but it’s not like we must buy it all at once and rush the last days.”

“Oh.”

Dante massaged his head. A simple list was making him feel nervous, almost as he was when Nero showed him the screen of the little life inside him. Until that moment, they didn’t have a tangible proof that Dante was actually pregnant – even if they were sure of it, because both Vergil and Dante, and later Nero, sensed it. And yet, now it was definitely official, and there was no going back. Dante put a hand on his stomach to massage it. They were close to the next step, shaping their home and their reality to welcome a new life.

The realization hit him hard, and whatever was the sensation which made his stomach clench, it was something very close to fear. That change was big, and it was happening too slowly for Dante to easily get used it. He was more for sudden unexpected changes, like a nephew in a lost town and his brother covered in tentacles and running for the position of king of Hell.

“…a cradle.” Dante tried. “Unless you want the baby to sleep between us.”

“Absolutely not, it’s dangerous.”

They started from zero, thinking about what the baby would need. They talked about diapers the moment the waiter arrived with their orders, and he gave them a strange look. Dante robbed some whipped cream from Vergil’s ice cream, but Vergil grabbed his wrist and redirected the spoon into his mouth.

“Hey, I wanted that!”

“You have yours.” Vergil slapped his hand away before Dante could steal the chocolate biscuit on top of his ice cream. “Clothes are a must, but the baby will definitely grow fast. That should be the last purchase.”

“Oh, hey, Vergil.” Dante talked with the spoon in his mouth, he poked Vergil’s elbow and pointed at a man who was bringing around his child into a carrier on his chest. “That thing looks comfortable. I see many people using them.”

Vergil wrote it down. “Backpack for children.”

“I don’t think that’s the name.”

“Then what’s the name?”

“Frontpack for children.”

Vergil slammed the menu on Dante’s forehead. “Why do I keep wasting my time with you?”

“Because you love me?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Ow, that hurt more the menu on my head.” Dante put both hands on the table and leaned forward to look at the list. “I can’t think of anything else for now.”

“We will probably know what we need, when we need it.”

Vergil folded the paper and put it into the trousers pocket to focus on his ice cream. However, he couldn’t ignore Dante staring at his own ice cream with empty eyes.

“What’s in your mind now, Dante?”

“Nothing special.” He was still staring absentmindedly at the glass. “Do you think we are suited to raise a child?”

Vergil carefully raised his eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“We didn’t do a good job so far with ourselves. What if we will be forced to… I don’t know, hand the baby down to a family because we can’t do it?” Dante didn’t know what was happening behind Vergil’s calm expression, but he could bet he might have hurt or pissed him off. “I don’t know how to take care of people, Vergil.” He stated with resignation. “I’ve never thought about taking care of them.”

“But in your own way, you took care of Nero.” At Dante’s puzzled look, Vergil continued. “Nero didn’t tell me anything, but did you think I wouldn’t recognize your handwriting? You gave him that neon sign, and he started finding his own way without being constantly stuck in that town.”

Dante noticed that his sundae was slowly melting, and he usually didn’t give it enough time to reach that stage. He chuckled. “That was just because he had talent, and it would have been a waste for him.” He took a spoon of half-liquid ice cream with a strawberry.

“That’s taking care as well. That’s why I’m not worried.” Vergil looked at him into the eyes. “You aren’t the best example in life, but neither the worst.”

“Wow, that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever told me. Are you sick by any chance?”

Vergil shook his head. “Hurry up and eat that ice cream, before you need a straw to drink it.”

After they finished their ice creams, they went back to the clothes shop, and Dante headed straight to the man section. He carefully selected some t-shirts while muttering complaints on how the choice for men was so much more narrow than the one for women.

“Are you telling me that you actually put care in what you wear and you don’t just randomly pick your outfits?”

Dante was knelt in front of a shelf and was examining the pattern of three types of t-shirt when Vergil, who was holding four t-shirts, blurted that out. He exhaled a sarcastic “Hah.” and added. “The sloppy attire suits me because I put thoughts on how to combine all my clothes. Everyone is good at being elegant, but not everyone can rock a carefree style.”

“How much time did you need to make up that excuse?”

Dante threw a t-shirt at Vergil. “I’ll try this one as well.” He stuck his tongue at him. “And it took me only one minute.” He joked.

“Hurry up, these are just t-shirts. Just pick some.”

“Said the elegant brother.”

Out of six t-shirts Dante chose, only two of them fit him like he wanted, so he picked up two more without any pattern on them.

“Pink and red?”

“Yes. Don’t you think they match Mr. Fluffle’s ribbons?”

“They won’t match them anymore, once you find him a new family.”

“I know, just for the time being.”

Vergil knew that there was no new family, because Mr. Fluffle set himself in comfortably into their lives, and Dante’s efforts to find some people to take care of him had been slowly falling into oblivion.

To go to the register, they had to pass through the area with children clothes. Vergil was looking in front of him, but the moment he heard Dante’s steps stopping, he stopped as well and turned around.

“What now? I thought we said it’s too early for clothes.”

Dante was holding a tiny t-shirt in front of him. “Look at this.” The drawing on the cloth wasn’t among the best Vergil had ever seen: a little stylized purple chubby demon with curved horns and an arrow-like pointy tail sitting on a yellow star with the words _baby devil_ curved in a small arch over him.

“Dante, that’s horrible.”

“Hey, it’s cute. What a pity they don’t have one for adults; I would buy one for Nero.”

At those words, Vergil couldn’t help but imagine Nero wearing a t-shirt with that design, and a laugh escaped his lips. He coughed immediately to cover it, but Dante’s grin told him he failed. “But Nero is too big for that, so there’s no point in buying it.”

“Oh, come on. Isn’t it cute? I’m buying it.”

And, in fact, Dante added that mini t-shirt to the purchase. The girl at the counter put it in a different bag than Dante’s t-shirts, and she smiled. “It’s so endearing that grandparents buy clothes for their grandchildren.”

Her words meant no harm, but Dante walked out of the shop with a weight on his chest. “Heh, we are old, aren’t we?” He commented trying to make it sound like a joke.

“Humans think we are. But we are toddlers in demons’ eyes.”

Dante made a surprised face, but then chuckled and put an arm around Vergil’s neck. “Oh brother, you suck at cheering people up.”

Vergil kissed Dante when they arrived at home. He endured that temptation as much as he could, but surrendered the moment Dante opened the door, and kissed him on the stairs leading to the office.

“Hey, we are still outside.” Dante lightly scolded him.

Vergil smirked and walked past him. “Let’s go. We must empty a drawer and put in that hideous t-shirt you wanted to buy.” The first of many, probably.

“I’m sure you love it as much as I do.”

“Absolutely not.”

Vergil opened the bedroom door, and he froze with the hand on the handle.

Dante arrived right after him. “Why are you standing there. Move in.” He spied over his shoulder and froze in surprise as well at the scene happening in front of their eyes.

Mr. Fluffle had his paws and head into the drawer, and it looked like he stopped moving after being caught red-handed doing whatever he was doing. He was holding between his teeth the edge of one of Dante’s t-shirts. Mr. Fluffle slowly walked out from the drawer, first one paw, then the other one; he dragged the t-shirt out without diverting his eyes from Dante and Vergil, and, once he managed to take it out, he pushed his head against the drawer to close it. However, due to his physical limitations, he didn’t manage to push it all over the way to fully close it. Then, he scampered away between their legs, taking the t-shirt with him.

Dante and Vergil followed him downstairs to the corner pub where he disappeared. Vergil didn’t like alcohol, because he couldn’t stand it, and Dante couldn’t drink anymore, so that little corner soon became abandoned, and Mr. Fluffle chose it as his own base.

Vergil bent over the counter to look down. “I’ve found your t-shirts, Dante.”

Dante went next to him and his eyes widened in surprise: all the t-shirts and some socks and underwear he thought went missing somehow, became the base material for a little comfortable nest. Mr. Fluffle added the new t-shirt and rolled himself on it; right and left, left and right, he did it until he felt satisfied and could settle in and look up at them with a conceited look, as if they were a pair of peasants who disrupted his rest.

“He looks like he is enjoying it.” Dante looked at Vergil. “By the way, you owe me an apology.”

“Why?”

“Because you scolded me about the drawer. It wasn’t me who didn’t close them properly.”

“But I can’t scold Mr. Fluffle.”

Vergil walked away from the counter and Dante followed his steps.

“And why that?”

“Because he wouldn’t listen to me. Now, I have a cheesecake to finish.”

Dante opened his arms in disbelief and let them fall along his hips. He turned around and glared at Mr. Fluffle from above the counter. “You made Vergil scold me, how are you going to make up for this?”

Mr. Fluffle lazily closed his eyes and started purring while rubbing his head against his nest.

“Yeah, figures. Nobody ever apologizes properly to me.”

But Dante was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asteri came up with the nest idea, and I had to put it in somewhere (and it fits this chapter's leitmotiv).


	11. Ring of the bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flute instead of bell makes Pavlov's dog confused.

April passed quite fast, and, around the half of May, the nice spring warmth started getting more intense and summer alike. Less jackets, more t-shirts or light shirts. Less umbrellas and more ice creams in hand.

During that fifth month of pregnancy, the child grew enough to make large t-shirts useless to cover Dante’s belly, and now he looked like, as he said one evening in bed, an old man who loved beers a bit too much. Vergil saw so many men that could fit that description he couldn’t even count them, but he was sure his brother didn’t fall into that category; despite him having a nice rounder belly, his legs were still strong and fit and his ass was solid. Even if his chest got a bit bigger and soft enough for Vergil to sink his fingers in it. Vergil had never said it with words, but he was sure his actions spoke loudly enough for him: he loved hugging Dante from behind, caressing his belly and, as he felt the arousal building, massaging his chest to get him in the mood for sex.

That morning, few days before Dante would enter the sixth month, Vergil woke up because of a ray of sun hitting his left eye. He turned around with a dissatisfied groan and blinked few times to have his sight adjusted and make the blurry veil disappear. Dante was giving him his back, seemingly ready to start their morning routine.

But as Vergil made an arm slide around his shoulders, Dante shook him off.

“It’s hot…” He muttered in a low voice without turning around.

Vergil had to admit that morning was much warmer than the previous ones, to the point they kicked the blanket to the end of the bed in their sleep. He sat down “Good morning.” and went to the toilet.

Dante took thirty minutes to follow him downstairs. “Good morning.” He massaged his head and glanced at the biscuits on the table, but his hand went for the milk bottle.

“Only cereals?”

“I’m fine. I’m not so hungry.”

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

It was Sunday, and usually Dante spent that day either resting at home or slacking around the town just to eat some sweets. Vergil was used at Dante taking him out to places which sold good sweets, and he just followed.

“No, I wanna stay at home today.”

“It looks like it’ll be quite warm.”

“It does.”

After breakfast, Vergil decided to catch up with a book and he sat next to Dante, who was watching a cheap movie. After few pages, Vergil shifted a bit closer, making their shoulders touch.

“Vergil, you’re warm.” It didn’t sound like Dante was enjoying the physical contact, so Vergil moved back.

It was strange being on the sofa and not having Dante leaning his head on his legs to claim his attention until he got bored and fell asleep. Maybe he felt weird because of the baby, sometimes it could happen, he read it on some books – and he hadn’t forgotten about the watermelon in the middle of the night when it was still winter.

“I can go get some cold drinks.” Vergil said out of the blue.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“For later.”

“Vergil, if you want some drinks, you can go and buy them. You don’t have to stick to my side.”

Vergil didn’t want cold drinks, he just made an attempt to see how Dante would react. “It’s too hot outside.” He gave up.

“Yep, it definitely is.” Dante stretched both arms above his head. “I feel like staying at home the whole day.” He slightly turned on his side, partially crouching to show Vergil his back. In that moment, Mr. Fluffle jumped on the sofa, climbed Dante’s legs and curled into his arms.

Vergil couldn’t help but notice that Dante didn’t shoo Mr. Fluffle away like he did with him; it was the opposite, he welcomed the cat and his warm fur in a sweet embrace.

***

Nero and Vergil met halfway. Nero was asked to reclaim a piece of land in the countryside from demons who were scaring the ten people living there, and, since Nico caught a cold despite the weather, he called Vergil and asked if him and Dante wanted to be of some company – he had grown used to having someone at his side during the hunt. Nero was quite surprised when only Vergil showed up.

“Dante doesn’t feel like getting out lately.” Vergil cut the topic off. “Too hot.”

“Well, if it’s too hot now, I don’t want to know how he will handle summertime.” Nero commented and didn’t go back talking about Dante until they took a break from the slay.

Those demons were small fries, even a human with a gun could kill them, but their strength was in the number: if Nero and Vergil weren’t as strong as they were, they would have been outnumbered and killed.

“There should be two nests left.” Vergil counted. “But we took down the biggest ones already.”

“Huff, I have no more bullets left. It doesn’t happen often.” Nero rolled the cylinder of his Blue Rose and quickly rolled his wrist to put it back in place with a clack. “Dante would have enjoyed this: lots of demons, little killing effort. What he needs to show off.”

“You are the same.”

Nero looked at Vergil. “Huh?”

“When I see you fighting, I remember how he used to fight when he was young. You look more like him than like me.”

“Oh…”

Nero was flattered, because Dante was his personal hero – but he’d rather cut off his own tongue and gulp it down than admit it to anyone. On the other hand, he didn’t know how Vergil could feel that his son was more similar to his brother.

“I have a problem with Dante.” Vergil abruptly changed the path of the conversation. “I think.” He added.

“What problem?”

“I don’t know.”

Nero was confused. “How comes you don’t know what problem it is if you know you have a problem?”

“You are right. I know I have a problem, but I don’t know how it has arisen.” Vergil corrected himself, but Nero thought nothing new was added. “I think… he despises me touching him.” He tried to phrase it so that it didn’t hurt as much as it actually did.

“Huh, why?”

“I don’t know why he does.”

“No…” Nero started with the same patience he used to tell the children they couldn’t trash a whole toilet paper roll in the toilet. “…why do you think he doesn’t want you to touch him?”

“Whenever I try getting close to him or touching him in any way, he fidgets away and says it’s too hot or he isn’t in the mood. But then he lets the cat snuggle him.”

“Are you jealous of the cat?”

Vergil glared at Nero. “Of course I’m not.” He was. “The cat has a fur, which is, by any means, warmer than human skin, meaning that Dante is using an excuse and isn’t openly telling me what’s going on.”

“Yes, that’s Dante’s leitmotif.” Never saying a word and adjusting the problems on his own. “Just ask him.”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“You won’t know, if you don’t try.” Nero massaged the back of his head: he couldn’t imagine Dante pushing away Vergil like that. He thought Vergil might be overreacting but didn’t tell him. “Have you done anything different lately?”

“No, I haven’t. It’s Dante that has changed a bit.” He reflected.

“Changed?”

“He hasn’t left home for two weeks now, and he isn’t eating ice cream nor biscuits anymore. We have the freezer filled with ice cream I don’t like, and he isn’t eating it.”

“Maybe it’s the pregnancy. Hormones always go crazy and women behave differently.” Nero didn’t know much about pregnancy, but he remembered listening to male adults in the Order complaining about their wives doing a 360-degree flip in their attitude. “It must be a phase.” He concluded rotating Red Queen’s handle to charge his sword. “Hey, if I kill more demons than you, you will treat me with dinner!” Nero exclaimed in a fashion that was similar to Dante’s before dashing into the battle. Vergil saw his brother in the way Nero swung his sword and smashed it on the skulls of the demons.

“Maybe it is.” Vergil agreed unsheathing Yamato as a group of demons was crawling towards them.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be a phase. Dante didn’t get out from home much, except to bring the cat to his daily walks early in the morning and late in the evening, when the streets were empty; and, as expected, he didn’t react to Vergil’s attention the way Vergil hoped.

He didn’t repel him most of the times snorting “It’s too hot.”, but he was never the one initiating physical contact, and the best reaction Vergil got from him was Dante curling into his arms without allowing him to roam his hands on his body. He was tired, he said.

So, Vergil stopped trying. He was afraid Dante was sick.

“Are you okay?” He asked casually one day of June, when he felt he was about to reach the brim of what he could bear. Vergil glanced at Dante wearing a ridiculously large t-shirt, because the weather was too hot and tighter t-shirts stuck to his skin, his brother explained. Dante probably went buying them on his own, when Vergil was somewhere else for work.

“Mh, yeah, why?”

Dante was eating normally, his complexion seemed healthy, and yet, Vergil felt something was odd.

“Just asking.” Vergil observed how Mr. Fluffle brough the leash and harness to Dante, meowing once to remind him it was about time for the evening walk. “I can bring him out.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s fresher now, I can stand it.”

_ Do you want to come along? _ Dante didn’t ask him as he used to do, and Vergil didn’t propose to join. He remained alone in the office, looking at a silly program at the tv without being truly interested in it.

Five minutes later, Trish opened the door without knocking.

“Why do you always enter unannounced?” Vergil scolded her with a tired voice. “What do you want?”

“Hello to you too.” Trish replied. “Where’s Dante? I have a message from Lady.”

“He took out the cat for a walk.”

“All alone?”

“He can take care of himself.”

Trish went sitting on the desk, where Vergil didn’t leave his books anymore because she always put her ass on it without looking of there was something. Vergil was slowly accepting that Trish looked like a bootleg version of their mother, and he stopped feeling a clench on the chest whenever looking at her. However, he didn’t have a good relationship with her as Dante had: they didn’t go out together, they didn’t hunt together, they didn’t fool around together like an old married couple.

“Tell me something.” Vergil started to get her attention. “What’s happening with Dante?”

Trish chuckled. “Do you think he is cheating on you with me?” She was surprised that Vergil frowned and scoffed at her.

“Why should I? No… what’s wrong with Dante? Did he tell you anything?”

It took Trish few second to understand what Vergil meant. “I don’t know if we are thinking about the same thing, but I think I may know what’s happening inside Dante’s head. Of course, he didn’t tell me.” She hurried to add. “Dante never tells anything because he doesn’t want us to worry for him, but I have developed what humans call _woman’s intuition_.”

Vergil couldn’t hide his hope. “Then you know why he is acting in such a bizarre way?”

“If you reflect on it a bit, you can reach my same conclusion.” Trish smiled at Vergil’s confused look. “Think about it: he is hoarding large t-shirts, he gave up on sweets and he doesn’t want to be seen around that much. What could that mean?”

Vergil reflected on Trish’s words. “…is this an early post-partum depression?”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Dante has issues with the new shape of his body. I’m highly convinced he finds himself ugly now.”

“Nonsense.”

Vergil couldn’t help but blurt that blunt reply. His brother, who always thought so high of himself that he believed he could face anything, which highly relied on his nice features and skills to appeal the clients whenever it was necessary, couldn’t possibly have no confidence in how he appeared. At least, that was what Vergil thought at first, but then he had to admit Dante had always been confident until his body didn’t start changing and a life was growing inside him. Vergil remembered how Dante stopped eating junk food, and then almost stopped eating at all, when the first signs of pregnancy started showing. Back then, Dante acted as if that was nothing and he wasn’t bothered.

“Are you sure?” Trish asked, but she read the answer in his eyes. “You still have that ice cream in the freezer, don’t you?”

“…yes.”

For how Vergil didn’t like Trish acting as if she owned the place, at least she would have reduced the amount of ice cream and made space for something else.

That evening, everything unfolded as usual: Vergil went to bed and started reading his book, and Dante, instead of leaning against him looking for cuddles, curled on the side. However, that evening was slightly different: Vergil didn’t read a single line and put his book down as Dante leaned down.

“Dante.”

“Mh?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Dante turned around. “What?”

“I asked you…” Vergil repeated. “…do you want to have sex with me?”

“…why are you asking that? I mean…” Dante chuckled his nervousness away. “…it’s not like one of us has ever asked.”

“I know. It is a natural reaction to our needs and desires.” Vergil opened the book. “Have I done anything that has bothered you in any way?”

Dante reflected on it. “You didn’t buy the magazine I asked you for.”

Vergil couldn’t help but glare at his brother, who still clung to his old bad habit of joking to make the atmosphere somehow lighter. “Have I made you think I don’t want to have sex with you?”

“Not really. Unless you wanting to touch me is just a sort of cover.”

Dante still pretended he wasn’t getting the hang of the conversation, and Vergil quite detested him for that.

“Do you really think I am the kind of person who will pretend to do something he doesn’t like without saying a word? I may be offended.”

“I don’t know, Vergil. You have done many things I didn’t expect, actually.” Dante turned around. “Even you may be moved if you pitied someone enough.”

That was the perfect moment to slap Dante in the head to put some common sense in that empty shell he brought around on his neck. Vergil closed the book, glanced at the cover, grabbed it with one hand and lightly poked Dante’s head with the back of it.

“I want to have sex with you, Dante, if you want.”

Dante shifted a bit, but only to curl a bit more on himself.

“I don’t really feel like it, thank you.” He stayed silent until he heard the noise of Vergil opening the book back. “Vergil, you did nothing. I’m just always tired. It’s normal.”

Vergil glanced at him. “I can imagine it.” He turned the page. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

***

Never in his life Vergil could imagine that one day he would sit at the same table with three people he didn’t particularly get along with – even if it was an easy scenario to build since, except four or five people, including Dante and Nero, he couldn’t stand many people.

He believed he had been clear enough with Trish when he told her that he needed to talk with her alone, so he didn’t refrain himself from shifting his eyes from Lady to Patty and declare. “You two aren’t invited.”

“I invited Patty.” Trish tried to calm his irritation. “Because I figured out what the problem you talked me about could be, and I’m not sure neither me nor Lady know the exact way to solve it.”

Vergil nodded towards Lady. “So why is she here?”

“She’s nosey.”

The punch Lady threw at Trish’s arm didn’t exactly seem weak. The smack of her knuckles colliding with Trish’s muscles echoed so loudly that few people from nearby tables turned around to see what happened.

“So, Dante has an early post-partum depression?” Lady began taking a seat. “I could hardly believe that, if I hadn’t seen him the other day. Since when he’s been stuck at home?”

“More than one month now.” Vergil said as she stole the menu he was about to take.

“It’s your treat, right?” Lady looked at the prices and checked the most expensive stuff. “The consultation isn’t free.”

“You aren’t needed here.” Vergil reminded her.

Patty, who didn’t say anything up to that moment, huffed. “Actually, I understood that _I_ had to solve that problem.” She looked much more worried than Trish and Lady were. “Had I known he was feeling this bad, I would have insisted to come at the shop the other day. I didn’t understand it.” Patty called Dante to ask how he was feeling, and everything seemed alright. Because of school and her friends, for the past month she didn’t get in touch with him in any other way but through the phone, and now she felt guilty.

She looked at Vergil. “What happened to him?”

“He probably despises how his body is changing.” Trish explained. “I noticed it in the way he is behaving.”

Lady shrugged. “Really? Maybe it’ll pass soon.” She chuckled at Vergil. “Tell him he is beautiful.”

Vergil frowned. “And do you really think that just because I told him so he would magically go back to be comfortable with himself? I thought you knew him.”

Lady sighed. “Yes, that’s what I tell myself whenever he does something stupid.”

Patty adjusted her skirt, made sure that the headband was nicely put on her head to keep the hair, now almost touching her shoulders, in order, and put the elbows on the table intertwining the fingers of both hands.

“Actually, you have a point, Vergil. This isn’t something that will be solved with a snap of your fingers. It will take time and care for Dante.” She looked suspicious as she observed Vergil from above her fingers. “Have you talked with him about this matter? And I mean–” Patty stopped his attempt of reply. “–talking openly as we are doing, not trying to and being satisfied with Dante pretending everything is okay as he always does.”

“I haven’t.” It was a quick reply.

Patty groaned. “Figures. I wonder if you really are the adults here.” She crossed her arms, moving back against the backseat. “Maybe Dante isn’t comfortable talking about what bothers him, but either we really confirm he is isolating himself because of this, or we just see him sinking down.” She raised the right arm and slammed the index down on the table, pointing at the royal parfait with fruits. “This is the price for today.”

“That’s for two people.” Vergil pointed out. “You can share it with Lady.”

“No way!” Both exclaimed.

“I want a crepe flambé!” Lady snarled.

“And I can eat that on my own! Do not underestimate my stomach!”

Vergil wrinkled his nose. “Your consultation was beyond useless: I already knew I had to talk with him. You told me nothing new. Do not expect any compensation for such a futile chat.”

The waiter approached them, a bit concerned by the loud voices which caught the attention of many customers. He blabbered a greeting, and Vergil stood up. “It’s on the ladies, I’m busy now.”

Patty and Lady protested, to Trish’s entertainment. “Well…” She smirked. “…I guess each will pay their own.” And her eyes followed Vergil until he disappeared around a corner.

Vergil didn’t go back to the office immediately. He wandered through the roads without a set destination, and his feet brought him in front of the shop where Dante used to drag him to eat his daily strawberry sundae. It felt like it happened far in time. Vergil thought about the ice creams abandoned in the freezer; Dante didn’t touch a single one of them after he bought them. So, whatever may have happened to him that made him conscious of his current condition, happened around that time.

The sun beat mercilessly on his head, forcing him to give up to the refreshing allure of a little ice cream cone. He went inside the shop for those, but ended up buying a milkshake, and was lucky enough to find a bench sheltered by a tree.

The chocolate milkshake was sweet but refreshing, and it tasted delicious. It helped him clearing his mind. Even if he still had no clue on what triggered Dante in his new condition, nor he had any idea on what he could do to help him find some relief.

Actually, Patty told him what he had to do, but that would go against his whole character. Since when they were children, him and Dante had a stormy relationship: they insulted, badmouthed, hit, bit, punched and kicked each other whenever there was a good chance. However, it was Dante who easily showed off his love and desire to stay by his side; Vergil could never read peacefully without him insisting they sparred with their wooden swords, and when he refused, Dante either started a fight or complained until he fell asleep with his head on his legs. Vergil was always cold and pretentious in front of his little brother, and caring and loving behind his back: he tugged him in bed, made sure to erase the signs of broken objects from their mother so she wouldn’t scold Dante and always pretended to be too slow to take the bigger slice of cake from the plate.

When they were kids, everything was much easier. Dante didn’t master the art of concealing his true guts yet, and Vergil could read him as easily as he did with his books. Vergil knew how Dante felt and knew how to react to his different moods.

Now, the situation required him to stand in front of his brother and openly ask him what was wrong. And openly telling him that, no matter what, he loved him. If only back then, when he was blinded by his thirst of power and shame for being weaker than the little brother he wanted to protect, maybe things could have been different for them. If only they talked, if only Vergil didn’t accept his brother grew up to be different from him and didn’t share his same views, maybe their happiness would have been delayed. Theirs and Nero’s.

Probably, those sad memories were the sole reason Vergil gave up and accepted the idea of opening up to Dante. Repeating the mistakes from the past wasn’t a clever move.

A wet touch on his leg abruptly brought him back to reality. He lowered his head to meet the eyes of a dog who was silently asking him to share some of the delicious-looking treat he had in the transparent plastic glass. A leash was attached to the harness, and it looked like she escaped from her owner. Said owner arrived in a hurry, making the last steps to the bench trying to catch her breath. The young girl bent forward, her hands on the knees as she inhaled and exhaled heavily.

“You bad girl…” She panted. “…I’m sorry mister. She thinks you have kibbles in there.”

The dog gently put a paw on Vergil’s leg, but the girl grabbed the leash. “No! Don’t put your paws on his legs! We are going back home now!”

That little episode made Vergil think about Mr. Fluffle. He was pretty sure that morning Dante didn’t bring him outside; when the cat meowed to drag him outside, Dante trapped him in a lazy hug, which seemed to satisfy Mr. Fluffle, because he fell asleep in his arms.

Vergil stood up, trashed the empty glass in the closest waste basket and went back to the office. He found Dante reading a magazine sitting in the chair.

“Welcome back.” He greeted him. “A man called asking for someone to talk with his hens. He thinks they suffer from depression.”

“Tomorrow.” Vergil cut him off and disappeared upstairs. He went back with the harness and leash in one hand and holding Mr. Fluffle from the scruff of his neck with the other. “You let him in the bedroom again.” It didn’t sound like he was scolding Dante.

“What’s happening?”

“We are taking the cat out for a walk.” Vergil declares putting Mr. Fluffle on the desk. He is a bit bothered by the rough treatment, Dante is more delicate with him, but Mr. Fluffle pushes his head on the harness as Vergil opens it. “You can’t get him used to it and then change his routine out of the blue. He is a cat, he doesn’t get it immediately.”

“Then you want to bring him out?” Dante wasn’t reading anymore.

“No.” Vergil closed the harness with a click and attacked the leash. “ _We_ are going.”

“Actually, I was reading.”

Vergil snatched the magazine from Dante’s hands and slammed it on the desk. “Yes, I saw that. But I want to spend some time with you, Dante.”

“We already spend much time together, Vergil.” Dante was looking at him as if he went nuts.

It looked like pretending they could act in a silent harmony didn’t work anymore. Sometimes it happened, they understood each other just through instinct, but sometimes it didn’t click.

“Listen, Dante, I don’t know what’s going on.” He admitted. “I don’t know what’s happening to you, and I don’t know how to help if you don’t tell me something more.”

“Vergil, nothing is happening to me. I’m just tired, it’s hot outside and I can’t handle this like before.” Dante pulled his t-shirt further down, he covered his belly with both arms. “There’s nothing to be worried about. You can’t make me un-pregnant.”

Mr. Fluffle perceived the burst of anger coming from Vergil before it rose, so he jumped down the desk to go hide behind the corner bar.

“Do you think I’m this stupid?” His calm voice gave Dante the goosebumps. He felt the coldness of Vergil’s tone scratching his skin. “Or do you think I’m not worth enough to know whatever is happening here?”

“Nothing is happening.” Dante retaliated in the same freezing tone. “Why don’t you leave me alone, huh?”

“So that’s what you want? Locking yourself into the office until you give birth to the baby?”

“And what if that’s what I want?”

Each of them was slightly raising their voice at each reply.

Vergil scoffed. “Then stay locked in here, alone.”

“It’s not like I’ve ever shared this place with someone.” Dante chuckled, but he didn’t show any sign of happiness. “Go away then! That’s the only thing you can do!”

“I will stay here!” Vergil threw the magazine at him. “And look after you!”

Dante stood up. “Oh why? Because you are the big brother who always knows better? The same big brother who thought throwing himself in Hell was a good idea?”

“No, you silly idiot!” Vergil snarled at him. “Because you are weak now and I can’t lose you again!”

Silence.

Vergil expected a sudden throwback, so he was surprised at the baffled expression showing on Dante’s face.

“Dante–”

Dante ignored his attempt of reaching out with the hand and pulled back to the toilet. Vergil heard the sound of Dante locking the door. He remained in front of the desk until he saw Mr. Fluffle timidly coming out from his nest and carefully approaching the door; he sat in front of it and waited for Dante to get out.

Vergil sat on the sofa and rubbed his eyes to stop the tears from rolling down, but he soon was forced just to let them flow, and he dried his skin with the back of his hand only when he was sure his need to cry was extinguished. It was quite pitiful that an old man as he was still couldn’t hold his tears back.

Mr. Fluffle didn’t stop waiting for Dante until he opened the door again. He followed his steps, with the leash sliding on the floor making a soft noise. Vergil, quite sure that his eyes still brought the signs of tears –he felt the corners burning– turned his head to his brother, and looked at his eyes, red, as if they were irritated: Dante cried too.

Vergil pat his hand twice on his thigh. Dante waited a bit, and this made Vergil’s heart skyrocket up to his throat; it was like having a painful knot which was hurting him to tears once again. But then Dante sat on the sofa, and slowly leaned his head down on Vergil’s legs.

“Your hair is a mess.” Vergil combed his locks with his fingers, being careful not to hurt him. “It’s gotten longer. It’s over your shoulders now.”

“I don’t want to cut it.”

“It suits you.”

Vergil couldn’t see Dante’s face, almost pressed against his legs. “I can’t go out. I’m weak now, and you can’t always protect me…” His voice was low.

“I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You underestimate me.” Vergil paused. “We can go out together.” He kept caressing his brother’s head and sinking his fingers in his soft hair.

“You can’t always be at my side.” Dante rubbed his head against his legs. “They would ask what a handsome man with a stick up his butt is doing with a… with me.” He ended with a little laugh which failed to cover his discomfort.

Vergil stopped touching Dante’s hair. “I love you in any shape you might come to me.” So embarrassing, he was glad his brother was looking away. “I don’t know how you are feeling right now. But even if you think you are ugly, well, that’s because you’ve always been a silly idiot.”

He felt a soft slam on his face: Dante had just smashed a pillow into his head and was pushing it to cover his visual.

“You really can’t joke, Vergil.”

“…are you blushing, Dante?”

It was easy for Vergil getting rid of the pillow and block Dante’s wrists so he could observe his face: his beard was growing again, creating a small veil on his chin, his eyes were widened in surprise, and the messy locks falling on his face weren’t enough to hide the reddish shade spreading on his cheeks.

“I’m not!” Dante looked away.

“I love you, Dante.”

Vergil moved forward to eliminate the short distance between them. But a loud lamenting meow stopped him. He turned around and met with Mr. Fluffle’s bitter glare: with both front paws on the sofa, he had the leash clenched in his mouth and his teeth were showing. His second meow sounded more like a threatening growl suffocated by the leash.

“I guess he’s angry because we aren’t bringing him outside to take a walk.” Dante breathed again. “I guess we are forced to go out now.”

Mr. Fluffle growled again. Vergil had to give up.

***

Dante wasn’t used to sleep with anything but a pair of shorts when the warm season begun (and he usually drew the line with the end of spring, as his endurance to cold was better than his to warm weather). However, he forced himself to get used to the cloth keeping him warmer than he wanted to, because he despised how he felt with the new shape of his body more than he disliked being sweaty in bed with no sex involved. He had to deal first with the feeling of the small soft rolls which he could hide somehow, and then his belly bloated, making it impossible for any cloth to hide his condition.

He felt ugly. He was a man going around with a bloated belly which didn’t fit him and able to squish his own chest for how it became plump.

Dante and Vergil didn’t talk about what happened in the office, and Dante didn’t know if they would talk about it again. He hoped not, because it was embarrassing letting out all he had carefully bottled up inside. They walked out the cat, and it took more than an hour before Mr. Fluffle didn’t hiss at them whenever they tried to go back home. Vergil prepared dinner, they ate, watched a bit of television and Dante deemed he was tired enough to go to bed.

“Vergil, where’s my t-shirt?”

He looked everywhere in the bedroom, even under the mattress, before giving up and going downstairs.

“I washed it. It was coated in white fur.” Vergil huffed at Dante’s frown. “Next time you will think twice before letting the cat into the bedroom.”

Mr. Fluffle, from the shelf, bloated his chest, knowing from Vergil’s glance they were talking about him, and he felt proud, whatever he may have done.

“And what am I supposed to wear tonight?”

“Another t-shirt.” Vergil turned the lights off and climbed the stairs. “You could take one of mine, but you have plenty of t-shirts now.”

The pre-sleep routine rolled as usual: Vergil got into the bed first and waited for Dante to finish washing his teeth and reach him. But when Dante entered the bedroom, he noticed Vergil wasn’t reading. He wasn’t even holding a book. Vergil pat twice next to him, giving him a silent invitation.

“What now?”

“Just come here.”

Dante stood two steps after the door. “You do look like mom when she said she wouldn’t scold us.”

“I won’t scold you.”

“Yes, she used to say that too.” Despite that, Dante smiled and accepted the invitation. He sat next to Vergil, crossed his legs and looked at him. “Isn’t it too late for talking?”

“Yes, it is. I should have told you sooner.”

Dante meant late as in time, because it was evening, and he believed up to a minute ago he was about to sleep. He didn’t say that. “What?”

“I want to have sex with you.”

“Yes, I know. You told me already.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

No, he didn’t. Vergil made him uncomfortable when he tried to make sense out of corny soap opera, complaining about every single decision and being serious about his reasonings; he made him uncomfortable when he started arguing with old ladies queueing at the supermarket. But he didn’t make him uncomfortable in their intimacy. The one who made Dante uncomfortable in bed was Dante himself.

“No. I just don’t feel like it lately.”

“I noticed.” Vergil wrapped both arms around Dante’s waist, gently caressing his belly. “I want to sleep close to you tonight. It’s not that hot.”

Dante felt the fingers tracing the outline of his body. It was good. It had been some time that they didn’t touch each other if not for quick contacts of their arms.

“Okay. But if you start kicking, you go to the sofa.”

“You are the one who kicks.”

Vergil waited for Dante to lean down on one side, then positioned himself behind him and put his chin in the curve of his neck. His right arm above, his left arm under him, and he pushed Dante a bit closer to him.

“Is the kid kicking already?” Vergil asked.

“No. So quiet I start doubting the baby is actually ours.”

“Maybe you are lucky enough not to feel any kick or movement to the end.”

“I know my luck. It’s more like the calm before the storm.”

Vergil kissed him behind his ear. He raised Dante’s t-shirt enough to slip a hand under it and felt his brother freezing.

“Is my hand cold?”

“Just a bit. But it’s fine.” Dante tried to push the t-shirt back down, but Vergil moved the hand up and groped his chest. “Vergil…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

With his mind not blurred by the husky warm voice caressing his ear, Dante would have replied yes, he didn’t feel very comfortable at the idea his own brother touching his body as it was now. But Vergil was rubbing himself against his ass and smacking small kisses on his neck. And his hands were squeezing his chest.

“Bastard, don’t make milk flow out.”

Vergil chuckled against his ear and kissed his cheek. “I’ll suck it clean for you.”

That promise made Dante’s head spin in pleasure.

“You–”

“I love you, Dante.” Vergil muttered those words in a low voice. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Vergil–”

“I won’t leave you again.”

“–don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you.” He repeated. “I will protect you until you will be able again to do your clownery to kill demons.”

Dante spat out a chuckle, which was meant to be a cackle if he didn’t refrain himself. “That’s the brother I know.” He put his hand on Vergil’s. “Always ready to bully me.”

Vergil grabbed his chin and turned his head enough for them to look at each other. Dante was trying to escape from his eyes, but, for how his eyes wandered, he always ended up gazing at Vergil.

“Then let me bully you some more.”

They kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fluffle is a catblocker.


	12. 365 days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil can't throw a bash.

One day, the rain came.

The rumbles of the clouds approaching announced their arrival and brought with them a refreshing wind. But was just a smokescreen. The blessed rain would be over after the night, and its remnants would enhance the warmth of the end of spring.

However, Dante didn’t want to focus much on the future, and he opened all the windows, allowing the breeze to whirl in the office. He was sitting in front of the plant, carefully trimming the leaves which dried up. Mr. Fluffle, at some point, thought that Dante was staying there with his legs crossed only because he was waiting for him to climb on his lap. So Mr. Fluffle curled between his legs and rested his chin on his knee. In two minutes, he was asleep.

Vergil was waiting for any call to arrive, and, instead of spending time reading, he observed how Dante was attentive and delicate when he touched the plant, moved the leaves away to adjust the soil or gently poured the water. The bun he tied his hair in soon turned slouch and some locks fell on his shoulders. Dante passed the wrist on his forehead to move away some hair tingling his nose.

“Vergil, bring me the fertilizer.”

Vergil stood up, grabbed the little sack behind the desk and put it next to Dante. He bent to kiss his cheek and went back to the chair. Five seconds later, the telephone rang. Vergil believed it was a client, but halfway his “Devil May Cry.”, Nero interrupted him.

“Hey, hi.”

“Oh, Nero. What’s wrong?”

Vergil hardly asked him how he was doing. Somehow, his past experiences, brought his instinct to put him on almost constant alert and this sometimes had an effect on how he spoke.

“Nothing.” Of course, there was something, Vergil understood it from his voice. “Actually, I’ve got a nice gig and I may be in town for some time.”

“This is good. Do you need a place to stay?”

“…just for few nights. If it’s a bother, I can–”

“Tell me when you will come.” Vergil scribbled the day and the hour Nero predicted to arrive. “Will Nico be with you?”

“No, it’s a solo job. She will stay in Fortuna.”

“I see.”

“Well, how are you?” Nero chuckled his tension away. “It’s been one year, after all.”

“One year?”

“It’s the 15th of June.”

Before leafing back to any mayor event related to that date, Vergil noticed that the small calendar on the desk, a block of papers to rip away each day, was still on the 1st of June, so he started ripping them to the right date.

“15th of June…” He repeated, being sure it was something important. It took him a while before the realization struck him, mostly because many of his memories from when he was split into V and Urizen started fading away one by one as if he had just dreamt of those events. Vergil didn’t know anymore that three of his worst nightmares sacrificed themselves, despite desiring living on, for him to be finally free, and he only had some vague images of when he fought in the Qliphoth as V – the grimaces of some demons, a squeaking voice, the roar of a feline. “When the Qliphoth fell.”

“Yes. It’s when we first met.” Nero hesitated. “Not really, but you weren’t really you before, right?”

“Probably not.”

“Then, things are fine, right?” He was having some difficulties in keeping the conversation on a steady path.

“Thank you, Nero.” Vergil surprised him, and Nero didn’t speak for some time. “Nero. Are you still there?”

“Yes, I am… I should thank you…” Pause. “…for letting me stay at your place.”

“It’s not a problem. You are my son.”

It was obvious. Usually, human parents took care of their children and helped them, no matter what their age was. But Nero had been used to taking care of himself and working his ass out to have even the tiniest comfort since when he was at the orphanage. Kind acts upon blood ties weren’t a granted thing in his case, and, considering how the Sparda kin was weird in its consideration of family, he didn’t expect Vergil to be this kind.

“Shouldn’t you ask Dante? I mean–”

“He will be glad to have you around.”

“Yes, sure. Uhm, listen, I’ve gotta go. Goodnight.”

“Be careful.” _Of what?_ Nero thought hearing those words. “Goodnight, Nero.”

As Vergil put the receiver down, Dante asked “How’s my favorite nephew doing?”

“You only have one nephew, and he will come here next week. He’ll stay for a couple of nights.”

“That sounds like a pajama party will be held soon.” Vergil frowned, and Dante shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Vergil glances at the clock on the wall. “You said you would take care of dinner. You haven’t prepared anything yet.”

Dante distractedly checks the time. “You’re right.” He gently poked Mr. Fluffle’s head to wake him up. The cat wasn’t happy when he realized Dante was forcing him to leave; in protest, he meowed at him while chasing his steps as he was putting his gardening tools away. “It should be ready in few minutes anyway.” Dante commented when he went to wash his hands.

“I don’t remember I saw you enter the kitchen today.”

“Come on Vergil, trust me. Dinner will be ready at any moment.” The doorbell rang as he finished speaking. Dante pointed at the door and smiled. “See?”

“Have you ordered dinner?”

“Yes.”

Vergil sighed. He had to expect his brother to pull such a move, when that afternoon he insisted he would take care of dinner.

“Are we back on pizza as main?”

“You would be surprised. Bring the little table in front of the sofa, would you, Verg?”

Dante opened the door. Vergil heard more than one stranger voice, and it was weird; as far as he remembered, the pizzaman was a solo job. However, Dante didn’t seem to have ordered pizza. He kicked the door closed and was careful at handling the box until he put it on the table.

“I left a tip because of the rain. Had I known a downpour was coming, I would have cooked myself.”

“I hardly doubt it. What have bought?” It smelt familiar. “Fish?”

Vergil was about to open the box, but Dante slapped his hand away. “Take two glasses, I’ll grab the drinks.”

Usually it was Vergil who slapped Dante because he used to nibble on food before they sat at the table – but he discarded that bad habit in the past weeks, as Dante seemed to be reluctant on eating more than necessary.

“What does this mean?”

“Do you know what day it is?”

“15th of June.” Vergil knew only because Nero reminded him. “So, is this some sort of celebration?”

“Well, it’s been since when we were children that we didn’t spend so much time together. I think it’s more than due.” Dante grabbed a bottle of water and one of fruit juice. “But we’ll skip alcohol. Oh, come on! Why are you closing the windows?”

“The wind is getting stronger. Mr. Fluffle, down.” Vergil ordered him with a severe firm voice. Mr. Fluffle was sniffing at the box, intrigued by the delicious smell. “You’ve eaten already. I know Dante has fed you.” He pushed him down the table.

Vergil spent too much of his life alone and stuck in an infernal limbo for anniversaries to have a meaning for him. It was better living the day, because he didn’t know if he would have seen another coming. Anniversaries were for people whose life didn’t depend on the whims of demons and destiny, who knew that, more or less, they could wait for another day to celebrate to arrive.

But then he remembered that now he was living on the other side, where people celebrated birthdays and other stupid anniversaries.

“We didn’t have a proper _welcome back big bro_ party last year.” Dante grabbed Vergil’s shoulders and pushed him back on the sofa. “I thought we had to make up for it.”

“I thought we were bashing slaying demons. Or are you salty because you have lost to me?”

“We are even.”

“That’s what you keep repeating, Dante, but–”

“–you are better than me at math, yeah yeah.” Dante sat next to Vergil. “Come on, open it.”

“Is this some gourmet pizza with fish?” Vergil wrinkled his nose at the thought.

“Hey, my taste in pizza is better than that! I feel offended!”

“I’m glad to know there’s still some decency inside you somewhere.”

It had been a long time since the last Dante had some pizza; Vergil believed that if he ordered anything, it would certainly be pizza. Instead, he went for a mystery box – not so mysterious due to the smell, but Vergil couldn’t guess what he would find inside.

He opened the box revealing two pots and some toasted bread. On a side there was one more box, but only covered with a transparent paper which showed two big slices of chocolate tart topped with strawberries.

“Do you want to plant flowers in these pots?”

Dante lifted the lids from one of the pots: inside there was an orangish dense soup decorated with a creamy spiral ending in some chunks of what looked like a huge shrimp, the surface was sprinkled in a green herb.

“You bought us a lobster soup?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t like soup, Dante.” Vergil reminded him.

“I don’t like eating it everyday like you pretend me to do.” Dante ignored how Vergil raised one eyebrow at him: he didn’t pretend it, he just made him notice that some soup from time to time would benefit him. “And why do you complain? If I don’t eat it, there’ll be more for you!”

“I thought you ordered pizza.”

“I like to surprise you.”

Vergil closed the hot pot. “We should sit at the table.”

And Dante opened it again. “Don’t be your usual grumpy old man tonight. Let’s stay here.”

“Dante, you are going to stain the sofa.”

“Why should it be me? What if you will stain it? Huh?”

“I won’t.”

“But if you do, you will do my share of errands for one week.”

“And if you do, you will do my share of errands instead.”

Dante nodded. “Dealt.”

They shook hands and started eating. Vergil enjoyed the soup. “They don’t do take away in that place with the lobster tarts you like.” Dante said, and if Vergil didn’t know his brother, it would totally be a shy excuse. “But this one isn’t bad either.” He concluded blowing on the spoon to cool the soup down.

After the first few mouthfuls done with extreme care, Dante took his shoes off and stretched his legs over Vergil’s.

“Cushion, please.” He tended one arm, waiting for Vergil to give him the cushion. Then, he put it behind his back and gently slid down a bit more. Dante emitted a satisfied moan. “This is comfortable.”

“You are one step closer to the loss.”

“Yeah, you wish.” Dante muttered with the spoon in his mouth. “Hey, by the way, I haven’t told you about how I met Nero yet.”

“You’ve just hinted at it. What’s with dad’s naked statue?”

Dante quickly explained what Sanctus meant to do with the big replica of their father. Instead explaining step by step why he was there and how things unfolded, he started with saying that the knights believed they acquired the powers of an angel, but they worshipped a demon.

“They really found the dumbest men to enrich their ranks.” Dante added his opinion. “What’s wrong?”

Vergil was shuddering, his lips were trembling in the attempts of covering his tiny laughs, but he failed. “I can’t believe it. I didn’t dig in that much back then, but…” He inhaled and exhaled. “…angels power?”

“I know, right?” Both burst in an amused long laugh. “Nero got in because of that step-brother, Credo, because he was far too clever to believe such bullshit. They didn’t try to imbibe him with angel shit.”

“And yet he grew a pair of interesting angel-like wings.”

“Talk about the irony.” Dante pointed at the toasted bread and Vergil passed him one slice. “The first time I saw Nero, I thought I got hit in the head and went nuts.”

“It’s highly probable at a certain point of your life you’ve gone nuts.”

“I love it when you’re so kind with me.” Dante poked his thigh with one foot. “I was saying, I saw Nero fighting in the streets. That punk had some style and the last thing I could imagine was him getting into the church of his own will. But ends up it was because of a girl, it’s always because of a girl.”

“Kyrie.”

“Yep. She’s quite a skilled singer, she could make a career out there if Fortuna hadn’t twisted her life views so much.” Dante stopped to gulp down some sips of water. “By the way, Nero sits down and he resists like… one minute? Even love couldn’t stick his ass on that bench. The disgust in his eyes for all those sheep around him reminded me of you.”

“I’m flattered.”

Dante chuckled. “And then I crashed in, planning down from the roof right in front of the old fart. One bullet, and he was gone. Or he should have, he had turned himself into a wannabe angel already.”

“Flamboyant as always.”

“That’s my trademark. And you know what Nero did?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Hey, don’t be this salty.” Dante stuck his tongue out. “Well, he first kicked me in the face. He was so cute back then, he really believed he could stand my same ground.”

“I owe him one for that kick.”

“You should owe him more than that. Because at a certain point, he impaled me with Rebellion.” Dante bent his arms and mimicked the straight movement of an arrow. “Right to dad’s statue. And he also broke its arms and smashed the nose.”

“Quite weak for a statue used to bring apocalypse on Earth.” Vergil wrinkled his nose.

“Oh no. That was another statue.”

He felt like it was strange they had a naked statue inside a Church. “They had quite the fixation on dad–Mr. Fluffle, I said no.” Vergil had to move the cat’s face away from his pot. “You just don’t know how to give up, do you?” Mr. Fluffle meowed at him and hid under the table.

“It was when Nero stormed me with punches that I felt the same sensation when you lovingly stabbed me with Rebellion and awakened my demonic powers.”

“You’re welcome.” Vergil took some time to taste the soft flesh of the lobster and didn’t notice immediately tat Dante stopped talking. “Then? What happened after that?”

Dante put the pot down. He was shifting a little, as if that position wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“Dante, what’s wrong?”

“I feel pressing from the inside, down here. All of a sudden.” He touched the lower part of his round belly and huffed. “I’m afraid the baby decided to take a very weird position.” He bent a bit on his right and sighed in relief. “Oh, now it’s better.”

Vergil lightly touched his belly. He felt Dante jolting; he wasn’t clearly expecting that contact, and he didn’t have time to prepare himself.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

Vergil massaged him slowly. “Is it better now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Vergil retreated. “Because you dirtied your t-shirt, meaning I won.”

“Hey, only the sofa was included in the bet.”

After Dante saved at the last second his pot from Mr. Fluffle, who took advantage of their distraction to taste that delicious food. Then, they argued if any other thing that could be stained was included in the bet until they emptied the pots.

“I said no.” Dante declared at last passing the pot to Vergil who put it back in the box.

“There’s still a bit more.”

“Give it to Mr. Fluffle.”

Vergil glanced down and saw that Mr. Fluffle was ready to receive what he believed he needed and deserved. “Here. Don’t trash it around.” The moment Vergil put the pot down, Mr. Fluffle sunk his face in it.

Dante noticed a stain on his t-shirt. “I should get changed.”

“So you can stain another one with the chocolate tart.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Just take it off then.”

Vergil threw the bait without thinking much about it, but it didn’t work. Dante shrugged and retaliated with his same words. “After I stain it with chocolate.” Of course, Dante still had troubles in fully showing himself to him as well, and Vergil didn’t want to force him. “What was I saying?”

“Nero.”

“Oh, yeah, right. I just went away, and from time to time I went checking Nero. He doesn’t really have your same technique, but as he hold Yamato, he looked a lot like you the way he fought.”

Vergil was putting the tart slices on two small plates and stopped to look at Dante. “Really? For what I’ve seen, his fighting style resembles yours more.”

“You haven’t seen him fighting with Yamato.”

That was true. Vergil found himself interested in witnessing how Nero handled the fights using his sword.

“Hey Vergil.” Dante poked him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“If you give me half of your strawberries, I’ll give you half of my slice.”

“No way.”

“Hey, this deal benefits you more than me!”

Vergil stabbed a strawberry with the fork and put it into Dante’s plate. “This is all you will get from me tonight.”

“Really? And what about my goodnight kiss?” Dante mocked him without predicting that Vergil would bend on him, smack a small kiss on his belly and go back to his slice. “…hey, that’s not fair.”

“A kiss is a kiss, Dante.”

Mr. Fluffle, satisfied by his treat, jumped on the sofa, aiming for the cramped space between Dante’s arm and his chest to stuff himself in there and sleep, but Vergil grabbed him and forced him on his legs. “Stay put, you dirtied yourself.” There were some remnants of soup around his snout an on his head. “You sure did enjoy the soup more than Dante did.” After Vergil removed the stains with a tissue, he left Mr. Fluffle go lean on the spot he aimed at, with his paws in the air and the belly showing. He closed his eyes and was asleep already.

“Aren’t you spoiling that cat a bit too much?”

“He celebrated as well. Mr. Fluffle likes you.”

“Especially when I refill his bowl because someone forgets to tell me he has eaten already.” And Vergil still couldn’t tell when Mr. Fluffle was really hungry or was faking it. He was a skilled actor.

“We should buy a small white board or something so we can write when we feed him.” Dante scratched him under the chin. “Like, yesterday you didn’t feed him at lunch, did you?”

“No, I did. Wait, did you feed him?”

“Hey, he looked desperate! It’s not my fault he’s fit for theatre!”

Vergil huffed: he couldn’t believe a cat could outsmart them.

The tart was delicious, and Vergil was silently glad that Dante finished his slice without any problem.

“It’s been one year already.” Vergil commented out of the blue. “It seems less time.”

“That’s what happens when you are enjoying yourself.” Dante sat down with a small huff, still holding Mr. Fluffle in his arms as he would with a baby. “He doesn’t wake up.”

“Don’t let him into the bedroom, Dante.” Vergil warned him. “Or he will take your place.”

Mr. Fluffle woke up on his own in the middle of the movie they decided to watch and deemed he had enough of being cuddled and went to his little nest to spend the rest of the night sleeping some more.

“The rain has stopped.”

For once, Dante got into bed before Vergil, and he was staring at the drops running along the window. The temperature dropped a bit, and he pulled the blanket to cover himself.

Vergil leaned down at his side. “I noticed.” He didn’t grab his book but turned the lights off and put an arm around Dante’s chest. Vergil kissed his neck, then his lips. Dante made their foreheads touch and slightly turned around to hug his brother.

For a bit, Vergil enjoyed listening in the silence at the calm breath of his brother. He passed a hand through his hair. “Dante?” Dante didn’t reply. Vergil kissed him on the lips and closed his eyes.

At a distance of a year, he felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat outsmarts an old couple and eats four times a day.


	13. Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero may need new clothes.

Nero felt bad he was about to crash at Dante and Vergil’s place. Crash wasn’t the most appropriate term, since he asked them first and they were expecting his visit; and yet, he felt like an intruder who was about to disrupt their routine. He hoped that he wouldn’t be forced to live with them more than necessary.

The _closed_ sign was hanging from outside the door, but all the windows were open and Nero heard a bizarre music that didn’t fit Dante at all. A relaxing mix of instruments, he recognized the notes of what could be a sort of flute; he once heard something similar from a shop selling clothes Nero had never seen before, large and colorful.

He knocked twice at the door.

“We are closed!” He heard Patty shrieking in a groan. “I can’t do this anymore!”

“Since when this is your shop?” Dante asked. “You are the one who insisted for doing it with me.”

“So I would be sure you do it!”

Nero knocked again. “It’s me, Nero!”

The door opened. Vergil stood in front of him with his usual severe look. “Hi, Nero.”

Whenever they meet, Vergil greeted him in a way that sounded so formal, Nero couldn’t help but feel a bit unease. He still didn’t know if how he greeted him back was the right way, but he answered with the usual “Hi, Vergil.” Since when they met, he called him _father_ once, and it was just to mock him pre-battle.

Vergil let him in.

“What the hell?” Nero couldn’t help but exclaim.

The office was different from what he remembered: the sofa and desk were moved at the back, and there was a flourishing plant. At the center of the room, Dante and Patty spread themselves on two different mats. Patty evidently gave up on whatever they were doing, she was lying down, flustered and groaning in distress; Dante brought the right leg out in front of him at a 90-degree angle and arched his back. His left leg was stretched behind, and Nero wondered if a normal groin could stretch that much. Then, he noticed the roundish belly pressing against the large t-shirt.

“Oh, hi Nero.” Dante slowly went back in a normal position. “Come on, Patty. You dragged me into this.” He chuckled at her.

“I didn’t know you could spread your legs like that! My muscles hurt!” She grabbed her inner thighs and sobbed. “I thought yoga was easier.”

“Yoga?” Nero scoffed. “Isn’t that thing pregnant women do–oh wait, right.” He massaged the back of his head. “Uhm… does your back hurt?”

“Not yet, luckily.”

Patty raised one hand. “Hi, Nero.” She took a deep breath and sat down. “Actually, yoga is used to relax both your body and mind. I thought it could help Dante.”

“Yeah… I don’t want to be the one telling you, but you don’t look much relaxed, Patty.” Nero pointed out.

Patty stood up. “Well, I’m not the pregnant one here.” She patted her top tank and shorts. Despite being slightly sweaty due to the efforts of keeping her balance and the warm weather, her hair was still nicely combed and her make up didn’t fade away. “And it’s not fair! Dante can do splits and he’s never shown me!” She turned to Dante with both hands on her hips. “Come on, Dante, show him!”

“What am I? A circus freak?”

“Sometimes.” Vergil appeared out of nowhere carrying with a tray a bottle of fruit juice and some glasses. “Are you thirsty, Nero?”

“Ah, yes, a bit.” He was sweaty. Due to his usual luck, the path from the station to the office was almost all under the sun.

“I love you too, brother.” Dante stuck his tongue out. Then, he changed position, and sat down stretching the right leg in front of him, the other still bent; he supported his torso with both hands on the floor and raised his groin a bit to stretch the left leg behind him. “It’s not such a big deal. Without this balloon here…” He pointed at his belly. “…I could do it without using my hands.”

“No! It is!” Patty pointed her index at him in a clear accusation. “You look like a shabby man and can stretch like a ballerina!”

“Wait, where did you learn it?” Nero had Dante in front of his eyes doing split in shorts and t-shirt, but still couldn’t believe it. Dante definitely gave many different vibes, but not those of a man who could bend his body as he pleased.

Dante shrugged. “Somewhere, I guess. I’ve always been this flexible.”

Patty shrieked. “I can’t stand you! That’s the same reply he always gives me when I ask him where he learnt something: somewhere!”

“Hey, I’m old. My mind tends to forget things.” Dante defended himself.

Vergil brought Patty and Nero their glasses. “That’s not an excuse to forget about the washing machine.”

“It happened once.”

“It happens once a week.”

Nero was glad the twins didn’t stop snarling at each other in favor of a cornier interaction.

Dante brought his legs in a position which almost any person with a medium mobility could assume and stood up. He was swifter than Nero expected, and that reassured him. He thought he would find Dante sitting on the sofa without any will to move.

“Dante, we still have few exercises left.” Patty reprimanded him.

“I thought you had enough of yoga.”

“I was just taking a break. Come on, it’s for your health! So you won’t feel any backache.”

“I don’t have any backache.”

“It means yoga is working.”

Dante raised Patty like a sack of potatoes and almost threw her on the sofa. “Playtime is over.”

“We weren’t playing!” She tried to wriggle away, but had to give up and admit she was no match for Dante’s muscles.

The mood was cheerful and noisy. It was very similar to home, Nero thought and couldn’t suppress a smile which he promptly hid drinking some juice. Last time was very awkward, as if Dante and –especially– Vergil were forcing themselves to behave properly for the human world. But now there was something more natural in how Dante joked with Patty, and Vergil approached Nero to ask him twice to bring the luggage in his room.

“Nero.” He repeated raising his voice. “Are you listening to me?”

“What?”

“The luggage. Bring it in your room. And take a shower, the blankets are clean and you are sweaty.”

“Yeah, sorry if I’m not like a dog, dad. I sweat.”

Nero grabbed his luggage and stalked on the stairs to his room. Then he closed himself inside and let the luggage fall on the floor. Had he just called Vergil “ _dad_ ”? He didn’t even think about it, in his mind he was sure the word was “Vergil”, but somehow he messed up halfway between his brain and the mouth.

“Ah, shit.”

The only other person who noticed that little detail was Vergil. He didn’t mind it at first but thought again about that when he heard the noise of the running water. Patty was packing her stuff into the bag, ready to leave.

“Hey Dante, invite me for lunch next weekend.” She reminded him.

“Why?”

“Because I want to talk with Nero.”

Dante smirked. “I thought you said you only date people younger than you.”

“And that’s what I do.” A shy red tainted her cheeks. “I think I have a date tomorrow.”

“Isn’t it too early for a backup plan?”

Patty threw a cushion at him. “Idiot! I don’t want to date Nero! I just want to know him better! He is your nephew, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.” Dante ruffled Patty’s hair, and her headband fell on her forehead. She pouted at him and adjusted her locks back. “We’ll settle it. But only if you forget about this dumb yoga.”

“Then don’t come to me when your back will ache.” She turned around, and her hair whirled elegantly around her neck. “Bye bye!”

The moment Patty closed the door, Vergil said. “Nero called me dad.”

“What?” Dante was confused.

“Nero called me dad.” Vergil believed Dante and Nero teamed up to mock him and make him repeat whatever he said.

“I didn’t notice it.” Dante shrugged and bent to take the mat. “Patty didn’t even help tidying up...”

“…you have nothing more to say?”

“About what?”

Vergil was losing his patience. “Nero called me _dad_ , Dante.” He placed a particular emphasis on _dad_.

“You aren’t his _mom_ , Vergil.” Dante replied using his same tone. “How do you want him to call you?”

“That’s not the problem. He just did it, but I haven’t done anything father-like.”

“Father-like?”

Vergil took the other mat and rolled it. “I don’t know, tucking him in bed, taking a bath with him…”

“I think Nero is past that phase.” Dante went to the desk to push it back in place.

“I’ll do it.” Vergil hurried to go near him.

“I moved it here, I can move it back.”

“Together.” It sounded like a compromise. “Anyway, what should I do with him?”

Dante groaned. “I don’t know, I’ve never had a son before.” He didn’t remember the desk to be this heavy. “You thought about what we did with dad, didn’t you?”

Vergil hushed Dante away and moved the desk alone. “He played with us. A lot.”

“Parry with Nero. I think he would appreciate that.”

“And then?”

“…then don’t take a bath together? Unless you two are in for it.” Dante sighed. “Just ask him what young people do nowadays.”

Dante, of course, was joking. However, Vergil took it seriously.

Nero came out from the bathroom refreshed and with clean clothes. Vergil approached him and talked as blunt as a sharp knife. “What do young people do nowadays to have fun, Nero?”

Dante, who was getting into the bathroom, suppressed a laugh and locked himself in. He wished he could overhear, but Vergil and Nero moved away, so he just shaved as he was supposed to do before Patty burst into the office pretending they did yoga.

“What have I missed?”

Nero looked confused, but Vergil seemed even more confused.

“Dante, have you ever been in a cinema?” Vergil asked.

“A couple of times, not my thing. Why, you haven’t?” He turned to Nero, who shook his head. “What?”

“Not plenty of cinemas in Fortuna.”

“Oh, right.”

Nero glanced at Dante: his hair was long enough to be tied in a low tail, it reached under his shoulders. But more than the long hair, Nero couldn’t stop staring at his smooth face. Every time he met Dante, he had a veil of beard around his chin, and he almost felt like another person.

“Do I have something on my face?” Dante touched his cheek.

“Yeah, the beard.”

“Sometimes I shave.” Dante sat on the sofa. “What about that job?”

“Nothing difficult, I think. I just saved some old eccentric rich man from a demon, but his bodyguard was injured and hospitalized. He needs a bodyguard for the time being and asked me.” Nero explained the gist of it. “I should also have my own room in few days, he’ll have it prepared.”

“It’s familiar… does he own that villa on the hills?”

“I don’t know, probably. This is the address.” Nero put a hand on his thigh, then he remembered he changed his trousers. “Oh shit, wait a sec.” He run upstairs and came back holding the piece of paper.

“Did you rustle in the dirty clothes?” Vergil asked.

Nero blushed. “I forgot, okay?”

Dante read the address. “Yep, that’s him. You are lucky, kid.”

“Why?”

“He asked me for a job only once, but I’ve never been paid that much. I thought he was kidding me, but he explained he calculated the risks of the job, the time I spent to become such a good hunter…” He counted on his fingers. “This could open up a bright future for you.”

“It’s just a temporary job.” Vergil reminded him.

“He wanted to hire me with a permanent contract, but I didn’t feel like it.”

At that explanation, Vergil looked like Dante had just insulted both their parents.

“Are you telling me we could have lived in a bigger house?”

Dante huffed at his brother. “If I had accepted that job, I wouldn’t have honed my skills killing demons daily, and we probably wouldn’t be here talking.”

“It’s not like we receive requests of hunting demons daily.” Vergil sounded outraged. “You refused to live in a villa just to hunt demons?”

“If you put it like that–”

“When was the last time you used your brain?”

“I compiled the entry report the other day.”

Nero raises his voice to stop their argument. “What do you mean with _bright future_?”

Dante was chuckling as he blocked the pillow Vergil threw at him. “A good job means more money for your family. You have some people who rely on you, I had no one when I had your age.”

He didn’t mean it as a way to complain, nor he felt any trace of sadness, because the past was way behind his back now. However, Dante realized he talked too much when he noticed Vergil slightly bent forward to lean both elbows on his legs; he intertwined his fingers and looked at Nero. It didn’t seem like he was distressed, because he made it naturally, but Dante knew that pose meant Vergil was feeling unease.

“And now I’m taking care of your father.” Dante added.

“It’s the other way round.” Vergil corrected him. “I’m taking care of Dante.

Nero figured another quarrel incoming. And he was right. Dante and Vergil bickered until Vergil stood up and declared he had no time for such trivial nonsense and that dinner wouldn’t cook itself. Nero somehow expected them to argue again, because Dante stood up and followed Vergil’s steps. Curiosity won over him, and he silently peeked.

Dante hugged Vergil from behind, leaning his head on his shoulder; Vergil pulled his cheek, making him pout, and chuckled at his little brother. Instead of retaliating, Dante kissed Vergil’s cheek and nuzzled his head.

They looked normal, they looked happy.

As silently as he approached the kitchen, Nero walked back and heavily fell on the sofa. He let out a long sigh. A sudden weight on his legs made him startle, and he looked down to stare back at a pair of big blue eyes: Mr. Fluffle was wearing an orange ribbon.

“You are still here then.”

Mr. Fluffle was waving his body and fidgeting with his paws, preparing himself to leap. Nero didn’t stop him from climbing his shoulders and position himself around his neck like a scarf.

“…shit, it’s summer, you know? You are a fucking oven!”

It looked like Mr. Fluffle took a particular liking to Nero. He kept following him and, during dinner, he sat next to his legs looking up with hopeful eyes.

“He hopes you will feed him.” Vergil explained.

“He is mad since when we stopped feeding him twice at lunch and twice at dinner.” Dante smiled at Nero’s puzzled expression. “Mr. Fluffle is a good actor, especially when he wants to eat more.”

“We are using a whiteboard to sign when we feed him.” Vergil glanced at Dante. “But someone still forgets to use it.”

“I told you to put it higher. Mr. Fluffle erased it. I sign it every single time.”

“I’m sincerely baffled that you are trying to blame the cat.”

Nero didn’t know the cat much, but he looked clever enough to understand what the signs on the whiteboard meant. “And here I thought you liked me.” He said looking down at Mr. Fluffle.

“Bring him to a walk after dinner and he will love you.” Dante wanted to steal a piece of meat from Vergil’s plate, but Vergil was faster and stopped his fork with his own. “Really, I mean it. Mr. Fluffle is like Vergil, you must have patience.”

“I’m not like the cat.” Vergil snorted.

However, Nero internally agreed with Dante after he looked once more at Mr. Fluffle and saw how his scowl was judging him. Then, when they finished eating, Mr. Fluffle brought his harness at Dante’s feet and meowed until he was put in it – somehow, he was an assertive cat, and that added a point in favor of Dante’s theory.

“You are pampering the cat too much.” Vergil scolded Dante. “First, clear the table, then take him out for a walk.”

“You know I always do it, and yet you always tell me what to do.” Dante retorted. “You really are an old man.”

“And what would you be?”

“At least I’m handsome.”

Nero listened to them arguing while he helped Dante clearing the table – they were so busy throwing sharp replies to each other, that they didn’t stop him from giving a hand like they did the last time. Mr. Fluffle followed Nero’s steps and twice he risked falling because he sprinted between his legs.

“Nero, bring Dante out for the walk.” Vergil said all of a sudden.

“I thought the cat was the one with the leash.” Nero commented with a smirk.

Vergil smiled back. “I don’t have a leash for Dante.”

Dante shrugged. “I have one, but you’ve never asked.” Nero and Vergil looked at him with wide eyes. “Come on, Mr. Fluffle. Time for a walk!”

Mr. Fluffle scampered to Dante with his tail straight up and let him tie the leash to the harness. Nero waited for Dante to close the door behind them.

“Do you have a leash for… you?”

“Yep, I do. I used to do lots of tricky games in bed when I was your age.”

“And then what happened?”

“Pregnancy. I can’t overdo it, even if I am me.” He glanced at Nero. “I haven’t used it with your father. Not yet.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to know! Thanks!”

They walked in silence along the road. Nero couldn’t stand the warm weather too much, but in the evening it was fresher, and going around felt nice, especially after Vergil filled him with food like a turkey. He gazed at the orangish thin line about to be gulped down by the deep blue and didn’t notice the hand which landed on his head until he felt the fingers ruffling his hair.

“By the way, congratulations for your job, Nero.”

Nero lightly slapped his hand away.

“It was dumb luck. Demons attacked that man at the right moment.”

“Luck is a highly underrated part of our job. How do you think I reached this age?” They stopped because Mr. Fluffle had to sniff the tires of a car. “How was Kyrie about you leaving for such a long time?”

Dante caught immediately the distress on Nero’s face, even if he tried to hide it looking the other way. Nero took some time before he replied.

“Not bad. It’s the first time, but I guess she’ll be fine. Nico is with her.” He blabbered.

“It’s normal if she’s worried.”

“Well, yeah…”

They reached a tiny ice cream shop where some people were lining up. “We can buy some proper ice cream on the way back.” Dante proposed. “Vergil loves chocolate. How about you?”

Nero couldn’t figure Vergil as someone who loved sweet things. “…me too.” He admitted. “It’s strange though.”

“That Vergil likes chocolate?”

“No, well yes, that too… it’s just that, you two argue a lot. You can’t stay ten minutes without bickering, and yet…” They looked after each other. “…how do you do?”

“How to we bicker this much?”

“I didn’t mean that!”

Dante chuckled. “I know, I know, sorry. You just served it right to me.” He hesitated. “I… don’t know. Really.” He added when Nero raised an eyebrow. “We’ve always argued but loved each other, in our own way.”

“So, that’s it…?”

“It’s difficult to say for me.” Dante glanced at Nero. “You look down, do you miss Kyrie so much?” He poked him.

“Ah? No! Well, I do, but…” Nero huffed. “I think I argued with Kyrie before I left.”

“You think.”

“Well… we really didn’t talk it out.”

Dante crouched to free Mr. Fluffle from the tangle of leash he put himself in, in the poor attempt of catching an insect. “You should talk more clearly. I can’t read minds yet.”

Nero shoved both hands in the jeans pockets. “It’s not that important.”

“If it’s not important, it’s fine then.” Dante stood up again. “All free now. Don’t you try aga– and here he goes after the mosquito again. He doesn’t listen, exactly like Vergil.”

Nero smirked. “Not listening must be a family trait.”

“And you are part of it.”

Dante saw the tension running up Nero’s muscles and freezing his body for an instant. “Ha ha, yeah, I am…”

“So, you argued with Kyrie.”

“…maybe, I have no idea.”

“Does she want you to be here?”

Nero sighed. “Probably she doesn’t mind the job. It’s temporary.”

“Then what?” Mr. Fluffle stopped chasing the mosquito and decided it was the right time to stop and spread on the ground to lick what remained of his balls. “Sure, in front of everyone. What a show-off.”

“He took that after you.” Nero reminded him, but the joke didn’t distract him from what they were talking about. “She doesn’t like the idea of leaving Fortuna.”

“But you do.”

Nero shrugged. “Staying in Fortuna was good for me before I realized there were more possibilities out there. More jobs, more money, and Kyrie could become a teacher or something, instead of teaching the children for free.”

“She works for free?”

“Yes. She does it for the inhabitants of Fortuna. She keeps saying it’s not their fault that the Order did what they did.”

“But it’s their fault they keep ostracizing you. Yes, Nero–” He replied before Nero could add anything to his surprised look. “–I saw how many of them looked at you. Probably they do nothing because of Kyrie, but if tomorrow she falls from the stairs and dies, who can tell how they will behave.”

“Hey!”

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me I’m not right.”

Nero looked at Dante and was pissed he was right. “But don’t talk about Kyrie dying anymore!”

“Short story is that you stay there for her, but she doesn’t want to leave for the sake of both.”

It was like receiving again the double punch from Dante and Vergil, but the pain Nero felt was harsher. “…more or less. But I guess I kinda rushed it. Maybe I should wait a bit more before taking a decision.”

“Yeah, you two should wait another thirty years before moving out.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nero snorted. “It’s not funny!”

“I’m not kidding, Nero.” Dante talked with a calm voice. “It’s normal that you want to leave as much as it’s normal that she wants to stay.”

“Okay, and then? If I want to leave and she wasn’t to stay, our needs clash!”

“It happens more often than not in any couple.”

Dante couldn’t believe he was out there, walking Mr. Fluffle while wearing a t-shirt which didn’t cover in its entirety his round belly, giving Nero advice about love relationships – and he wasn’t the most suitable to cover that role. “If you really believe you can’t live without her, renounce to what you want and stay in Fortuna. Maybe she will change her mind, or maybe you will. Maybe in one week you will hate living elsewhere. You know how they say, Nero: if you don’t try, you won’t know.”

Nero felt bad he attacked Dante when he did nothing. “…and what if we talk it out… and I still want to stay and she still doesn’t want to try?” He was afraid he knew what reply was coming.

“Break up. ”

Exactly. Nero frowned. “I can't break up with Kyrie.”

“Are you afraid she’s the only person in the world that will give you love?” Dante ignored his distressed look. “Breaking up is not the end of the world.”

“But Kyrie has always been my world.” Nero paused. “It didn’t sound as cheesy as I think, did it?”

“No, it did.”

“Shit.”

Dante flinched Nero between his eyes so hard that Mr. Fluffle stopped cleaning himself and looked up to check what that noise was.

“Asshole! That hurt!” Nero massaged his forehead. It tingled.

“There are many people who like you right now, by the way. Your world has kinda broadened in these years.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You think I’m kidding? Vergil is doing his best to be a father to you. Once he dragged me into the library and bought some books on how to have a nice relationship with your children or whatever. And he complained because I bought too many comics.”

“He looked it up in a book?”

“He found in a book the way to retrieve our father’s original sword, so I guess he now believes he can find anything in books.”

“That’s weird.” And yet, Nero felt a bit relieved because of that; his father was acting on his own to connect to him and make up for what they had lost. “And you found in a book how to be a decent uncle?”

“Nah, that’s natural to me.”

“Then I should buy you a cup. Number one deadweight uncle.”

Dante laughed. “Are you still thinking about it?”

“Of course I do! I’m not a deadweight!”

“But you became angry enough to come back and get stronger. Had I said something like _you are our last hope_ , I wouldn’t have taken out all your raw potential.”

Nero snorted. “As if your small brain could elaborate such a refined plan.”

On their way back, they forgot the ice cream and remembered only when Vergil opened the door.

“The ice cream!”

Nero exclaimed, and Vergil replied. “We still have some in the freezer.” And he went taking it out.

Against all of Vergil’s expectations, Dante ate some ice cream. There were only two ice cream biscuits left, and Dante gave up on his share. However, he leaned against Vergil’s shoulder and, while he was discussing with Nero about the details of his new job, he tended his neck and took a small bite.

“A bodyguard.” Vergil ignored him the first bite. “It shouldn’t be difficult for you.”

“Easier than killing demons.” Nero ignored his own fears of messing everything up and, worse, killing someone in the process, because he was used to handle demons.

Dante licked once the ice cream between the biscuits, and Vergil quickly poked him. “Take one, if you want.”

“You talk, and the ice cream melts.”

“It’s not like you clean.”

“Hey, I do clean! I can’t believe you disrespect me like that.”

Dante took another small bite of ice cream and crossed his arms to point out he was annoyed. Vergil ignored him. “Are you going to receive new weapons? Even if humans are resistant cockroaches, yours may be a bit too much.”

“Cockroaches?”

Vergil was bringing the ice cream at his mouth but stopped. “Little, black, they scamper in filthy places.”

“I know what cockroaches are, just–” Nero huffed. “–whatever. I don’t think I could use Red Queen, but I’ll be fine.”

Vergil noticed Dante managed to steal some more ice cream from him when he talked. “You brought it anyway.” He was munching and the words weren’t so clear.

“It’s an old habit. I’d rather always have it with me. But it’s not as handy as yours to bring around, I can’t make it appear and disappear.” Nero ate the last mouthful of ice cream, rolled the wrap and stood up. “I think I’ll go to bed now.” He wanted to fall asleep as soon as possible to avoid hearing again whatever may come from Dante and Vergil’s room. “Goodnight.”

When he was in the room, Nero wondered if he should go downstairs and call Kyrie. He called before dinner, to tell Nico he reached the office safe and sound, but Kyrie went out to buy some groceries and he couldn’t talk to her – a little bug into his head kept whispering that she didn’t want to talk to him and that was an excuse.

A knock on the door prevented him from diving into that self-destructive vortex of thoughts.

“Come in.”

Vergil entered. “I thought you were sleeping already.” He looked at the zip of the luggage, opened only to take the pajama out.

“I was going to. I checked my luggage.” Nero lied. “Do you need something–hey! What are you doing?”

Vergil knelt and opened the hems of the zip to take a better look. “It seems like you have few clothes.”

“I don’t need so many clothes. The children need them more because they grow fast.”

“Well, the children aren’t going to do this job. There are some nice shops around here.”

Nero huffed. “I don’t need them.” Actually, in the current condition, spending money he barely had for new clothes wasn’t the sharpest choice. But he didn’t want to tell that to Vergil and neither to Dante. He didn’t want them to think he couldn’t provide himself with basic needs.

“I don’t know much about this man, I only saw him once from afar, but I can tell his bodyguard didn’t wear t-shirts.”

“I suppose he imagined that I didn’t own suits or stuff like that.” Deep inside, Nero panicked, because maybe he was right. The idea of going back to Fortuna because he failed before beginning, somehow hurt even more than the idea of not going back at all.

Vergil stood up. “You start the day after tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Tomorrow I will buy you some clothes.”

“I said I don’t need–”

“Take it as a very late birthday present.”

Nero took some seconds to elaborate what was happening. “…you missed a lot of them.”

“I know.”

“I don’t have such a big wardrobe. Do you think I’m a model? With this face?” Joking made Nero feel in control of the situation again.

Vergil smiled. “Actually, I gave you some good features. Goodnight, Nero.”

When Vergil left, Nero touched his face and looked at his reflection in the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can you forget about the ice cream?


	14. Summertime heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's yoga, not yogurt.

Summer had officially begun. Having all the windows open wasn’t enough to let in some fresh breeze. Vergil regretted he believed that the fan on the ceiling had another speed level, but he learnt soon that the only level was squeaking slowly like the wheel of a bicycle. During those days, either he read his books or used them as cheap fans – the latter became their primary function. It was so hot, they had to cover the leather sofa with a cotton blanket if they didn’t want to leave chunks of skin behind.

“Vergil, it’s not like looking at the telephone will make it ring.”

For once, Vergil was looking at the desk without seeing it, as he was lost in the contemplation of buying at least an electric fan. He came back to his senses and wrinkled his nose.

“Shut up, Dante. It’s hot.”

“I didn’t know I could raise the room’s temperature just by talking.”

“Now you know.”

Dante was sitting on the mat, his legs bent on side and the soles of his feet touching as he pushed down the knees to touch the floor.

“I thought you hated that thing… how’s that called again? Yogurt?”

“Yoga.” Dante put both hands on the knees and applied more pressure. “I’ve noticed I’m not as flexible as before. I’ve rested on my laurels for so long that I can’t do a split if I don’t stretch before.” He took a deep breath.

There was something intriguing in how his brother could still move that freely despite having a baby inside him. Vergil observed carefully as Dante turned around, and his eyes stared at his back; those large t-shirts were a hindrance, and he couldn’t see how the muscles of his back flexed as he stretched his torso, both arms tending to the ceiling. Dante spread one leg on a side, then the other one, but he couldn’t keep the upper body straight and slightly bent forward.

“Tch, I can’t really open them more than this. I used to do a perfect straight line.”

Vergil ogled at the shorts sticking to his brother’s butt. That position shaped it in two round cheeks, and it was highly difficult not having the eyes falling there after every –failed– attempt of looking away. Vergil waved the book near his face, but the feeble wind was sucked in by the heat devouring his body. With an elegant motion, he crossed his legs in the moment Dante stood up and walked to the sofa.

Dante grabbed a towel and sank his face in it.

“Drink something.” Vergil meant it more as an order than a suggestion.

“Do you want anything?”

Vergil glanced at Dante’s chest. “Some milk.”

“Okay.” Dante went in the kitchen, and Vergil heard the noise of the fridge opening. “Milk is finished.” Dante said aloud. “I forgot to buy it.”

“Some juice then.”

It was a lazy afternoon. That day none of them felt like doing more than the strict necessary – eating, drinking, pissing and so on. There was no new job, and outside the sun was still too high for them to get out unless there was a valid reason – and milk wasn’t.

“Haven’t you finished yet?”

Dante gulped down the juice in few sips and went back to the mat. Just some more exercise wouldn’t kill him: he had nothing better to do, after all. He put his hands on the mat and bent to form a V with his body.

Vergil’s mind wandered elsewhere; his eyes laid on Dante in a blank stare. He didn’t notice that a white spot appeared in his vision field and placed himself under Dante until Dante chuckled.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Fluffle was lying down with his belly exposed and pawed at Dante’s face. “Okay, okay.” Dante pushed the cat away, making him slide on the floor with one hand, and knelt. He brought his waist back and crouched to make the shape of an egg, with his arms stretched in front of him.

Mr. Fluffle looked at him and leaned down; then, he rolled once on the right and once on the left. He glanced again at Dante and looked confused. He raised his ass up in the air, stretching the front paws, without taking his eyes off him.

“Guess I have a new partner.” As Dante said it, Mr. Fluffle rolled on a side and wigged his tail twice in a lazy motion. “Or maybe not. You gave up fast. Hey, Vergil.”

Vergil didn’t expect Dante to call him, so he didn’t reply immediately.

“Yes?”

Dante was looking at him. “Bring me the cushions.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Vergil.”

If that was an attempt of a joke, Vergil didn’t understand it. Dante stood up and took the cushions himself. He piled them one on the other, creating a soft backseat where he could rest his back; then he spread his legs and bent the knees to make the soles of his feet touching.

“This pose feels ridiculous.” Dante commented as he bent his head backwards.

“It is.” Vergil affirmed. “Shouldn’t you do it with music?”

“The jukebox doesn’t work again.”

“I meant relaxing music.”

“That’s relaxing music.”

Vergil didn’t understand how such fast tunes played with drums, guitars and keyboards could result relaxing. But it was Dante, their tastes had always diverged, so he wasn’t surprised. He indulged in observing how Dante’s belly moved up and down under the slow rhythm of his breath, and his eyes covered the length of the shadow outlining the firm muscles of his thighs. Vergil stood up and knelt in front of Dante.

Dante raised his head. “Hey, this mat is mine. Buy your own.”

“But I want this one.”

Dante went to kick Vergil’s face, but he was promptly blocked. Vergil grabbed his leg and massaged it; he enjoyed the sensation of the hair under his fingertips, so soft and pleasant at the touch.

Dante tilted his head. “You interrupted me.” He bent the leg back to get free from Vergil and pressed the foot on his chest. “Why don’t you leave me alone for a while?”

“Now you know how I felt when I wanted to read, and you kept insisting on doing something else.”

Dante chuckled. “You’re so petty. We were children you still remember that?” He was relaxed, leaned back against the cushions.

“You still do it as an adult.” Vergil grabbed his foot and kissed his ankle. His lips raising up his leg tickled him, and Dante’s restrained groans turned into laughs as Vergil sucked the joint of the knee. “Congratulations. You’ve ruined the mood.” Vergil scolded him.

Dante moved the hair away from his face. He was too beautiful when he tossed away his fake smile and melted in true happiness. He shone like he did when he was a kid and he always had a big smile for him and their mother.

“Have I?”

Vergil put both hands at Dante’s sides and leaned down on him. “It doesn’t matter.”

Dante felt his breath tickling his lips and closed his eyes; he slightly raised his head, enough for their mouth to touch. Yet, instead of the soft warm contact, Dante felt the void of the air and he opened his eyes to see Vergil crouched between his legs.

“For once that I was being romantic.” Dante complained.

“Covering yourself in rose petals wasn’t romantic when we had to clean them all.”

“First, this is totally unrelated. Secondly, you did enjoy it.”

“I did enjoy what was under them.”

Vergil smirked, and Dante felt a wave of heat running through his body. It had been a while since the last time they got intimate without being in bed, hidden in the darkness of the room, where Dante could pretend Vergil didn’t have a good view of his body – even if he was aware his brother’s view was even better than his own when the light was dim.

“Vergil…” He called him while Vergil was raising his t-shirt over his belly. Vergil glanced at him and halted, ready to stop and pass to the next piece of cloth. “…you really didn’t enjoy the roses?”

“Next time, be less creative.” Vergil tenderly kissed his belly. “No whipped cream.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because we’ll have the blankets to clean as well.”

“Not my fault you aren’t swift enough with your tongue.”

Dante couldn’t help but be aroused at how Vergil’s lips curved in a mischievous smile. “Is that a challenge?” And he felt his own breath getting heavier at the husky voice.

“Do you need to ask? Really?” Dante still managed to pull himself together enough to poke his pride. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

He felt Vergil’s wet lips touching the skin around the navel and Dante trembled a bit. He didn’t remember Vergil could use his mouth so well, but probably he just wasn’t used anymore to those soft touches. All they did when they had sex (when Dante didn’t feel uncomfortable with himself), was kissing and then they immediately cut to the chase. Vergil carefully took his shorts out and put his head between his legs. Dante saw the stars.

With both hands on his mouth to muffle his voice, Dante couldn’t stop the shivers running along his legs and his spine and exploded into his groin in painful waves of heat. It was still afternoon, people passed in the street and their windows were open: the door might be closed, but if he cried out as always, someone would definitely hear him. Not that he would mind, but the idea he had to keep a lower tone and they were likely to be discovered excited him.

Vergil took him fully into his mouth, making sure to suck away all the juice flowing from his pussy. It was wonderful, the sensation of warmth growing inside. It was beautiful, fantastic…

…it was fast.

Dante came with a groan; he slowly pulled the t-shirt down to cover himself. The orgasm wore him out, and his body wilted, but, despite the spins due to the pleasure, he raised his head. In a single glance, he noticed how his brother needed some attention as well, and Dante grabbed his wrist. Vergil questioned him with puzzled eyes, and Dante just dragged him to switch positions, and pushed him against the cushions.

For a wild instant, Vergil thought Dante was about to ride his dick. All the hints went in that direction: Dante sitting on his legs and unbuttoning his trousers, Dante taking his erection out and raising his hips. Vergil gulped down some saliva. Yet, Dante put the knees at the sides of his legs and bent on him to reach his groin with his lips. Better than nothing, Vergil thought exhaling the air all at once.

Dante wasn’t looking at him. He moved his hair behind the ears, but some locks still fell down and tickled Vergil’s skin. Dante sucked the tip, his tongue pressed against the slit; he moved his mouth along the length until the base, then made his tongue slid back to the top slowly. He looked like he was enjoying a fresh ice cream to find some relief from the warm weather; instead, he was nurturing the heat growing inside Vergil.

However, Vergil didn’t give Dante the satisfaction of reacting with more than groans or deep sighs. For how much he loved the wet smacks of his mouth and the small pops when Dante stopped sucking to catch his breath, he didn’t melt in disgraceful moans as his brother used to do. Dante knew Vergil hardly went beyond some grunts and muffled moans, but he stopped anyway and looked at him.

“Do you like it?”

“I would have stopped you otherwise.” His voice is slightly heavy. “What’s wrong?”

“…nothing.”

It was like when they were kids. Dante never said something was wrong, and his face gave it all away. Now he became a bit better, his frown wasn’t so deep, nor his pout so dramatic and evident; but Vergil could still read him.

“Then what’s with that face?”

Instead of retorting and starting a squabble, Dante remained silent. Vergil could hardly bear the pulsating pain of his unsatisfied erection, and his instinct told him that grabbing Dante’s hair and guiding him to swallow him could be a nice idea. His brother’s lips were still slightly wet and reddish, they would definitely look even better around his cock.

“What are you doing?” Vergil didn’t understand why, of all the times, Dante decided _that_ was the right time to take his t-shirt off. His hands shook a little as he raised the hem, slowly uncovering his torso. The round belly grew enough to stretch his skin, and his chest looked less definite than it used to be. Vergil wanted to touch it and see if it was as soft as it looked. As if Dante read his mind, he pushed his chest against his erection and squeezed his arms to trap it between his tits. They weren’t big enough to envelop it in a complete hug, but Vergil didn’t mind: they were soft.

“Ah, shit.” Dante rubbed his chest once. “They looked bigger.” He grabbed his chest and tried again, but he couldn’t surround it. He glanced up: Vergil’s cheeks were reddish, his skin slightly humid and he was breathing with the mouth slightly open.

“So you like it.” Dante put both elbows on the mat, at Vergil’s sides and put his chin on the hands. “How’s that?”

Soft, warm, he wanted more because just feeling the chest touching his erection wasn’t enough. Vergil didn’t say that and took Dante’s chin. “Not bad.”

“Heh, not bad. Classic Vergil.”

Dante passed a hand through his hair to comb it back and licked his lips, ready to take his brother’s cock into his mouth. Vergil allowed himself a satisfied moan.

***

Dante wasn’t used to keep the windows open. No matter how warm it could be, he had always lived under the threat that demons could attack him at any time. A thin glass window wouldn’t be enough to keep them away, and Dante would perceive their presence way before they could attack. That might be his human heredity, clinging on small things that made him feel safer. A closed window meant a barrier between him and the external world, and nothing could enter unless he decided to.

However, that night he opened wide the bedroom’s window and didn’t close the bedroom door to let the night breeze flow and give him some relief. He was in bed without the blanket and Mr. Fluffle decided to keep him company. It took the cat five minutes to deem the bed had lost the freshness he was looking for, and Mr. Fluffle walked downstairs in an outraged pace with his tail straight in the air.

“I wish I could sleep everywhere as well.” Dante told at his ass before he disappeared around the corner. “Ungrateful asshole, just like Vergil.”

Vergil who wasn’t there that night, and probably it wasn’t so bad, considering the blankets were soaked in his own warmth and weren’t giving him the physical comfort he needed anymore. Dante kept rolling in bed, one side to the other and back again, trying to stay enough in one half of the bed to make the other fresh again. The plan wasn’t working as he hoped.

He was lucky enough to fall asleep without much problem, but then the baby decided that was the right night to start enjoying the fine art of kicking, and he moved around so much that Dante woke up. Then, the baby assumed such a discomforting position that Dante spent one hour downstairs sitting on the sofa and entertaining Mr. Fluffle with a squeaky rat toy Patty bought him – he could only find some comfort half-bent on a side. When the baby decided to go back in a normal position, Dante went back in bed, but he remained awake.

Dante gave up and leaned on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He would fall asleep, sooner or later, and for now the only challenges he had to face were bearing the climate and the boredom. He couldn’t do much for the first, and he suspected that his new condition made him less tolerant of summer, but he might just read something to pass the time. Dante felt the laziness biting his ass at the idea of going back downstairs to watch some television. He didn’t want to get up from the bed at all. On the night table there were Vergil’s book and a comic he bought – since Vergil read a lot before sleeping, Dante wanted to try, because during the day he always ended up doing something else, but he always fell asleep after few pages, or was too tired, or didn’t want to.

He turned on the light, opened the comic and start reading. One, two, three pages. He reached page ten, then put the book on his chest and sighed: he felt too tired to keep reading, but not enough to keep his eyes closed and fall asleep.

Without thinking much about it, Dante shoved his right hand inside the shorts and touched himself. At first, he just rubbed the fingers without thinking about anything in particular, and his body wasn’t responding as he wanted to.

_ So, I must put my brain at work again _ . He joked with himself. Now he could use an erotic magazine, but, unfortunately, he didn’t have one in the room, and his legs felt limp. Dante had to rely on his own imagination, so he closed his eyes and tried to call at him some images.

He pictured Vergil glancing at him with hungry eyes, the blue flashing in the dim light of the room. A feeble shiver run from where Dante’s fingers were rubbing to his spine, and his mind went further. Vergil trapped his arms above his head using the strong tail, and Dante brought his left hand in that same position to make the fantasy more credible. His brother lightly touched him only using the tips of the fingers, his nails gently scratching his pussy to make Dante crave of a deeper contact.

If it was real, Vergil would tease him, mock how much his little brother desired to become a lewd sweaty mess if in exchange he could get physical pleasure. That was part of the foreplay, and Dante couldn’t help but be aroused whenever his brother submitted him in bed, almost making him beg to continue. It had been a while since the last time, now some vanilla sex seemed to be okay.

But the Vergil in his head didn’t agree with some mild attention and boring escalation to the orgasm. His fingers (Dante’s fingers) stimulated his clit a bit too fast than the real Vergil would do, but his eyes had the same mischievous glimmer which always basked Dante’s mind into lecherous thoughts. The grip on the wrists disappeared and the tail slithered along his chest and stomach to reach the thighs – Dante touched himself with his left hand, pinched a nipple a bit and then quickly got rid of the shorts and the underwear, tossing them at the end of the bed.

The fake Vergil brushed the tail against Dante’s pussy and tickled the hole. Unfortunately, Dante’s hand wasn’t couldn’t replicate that harsh but exciting sensation his body remembered. The shivers were painful and not enough near satisfying, and his mind was fighting to keep reality and fantasy on the same page: the image of Vergil teasing him was disappearing, and the heat in his body was melting away.

Dante kept trying for a while, touching his weak spots, but everything was regressing to a mild caress which barely tickled him. He grunted and jerked sat on the bed.

Vergil didn’t like using toys on him. They tried it once, and Vergil was dissatisfied during the whole process; he stated at the end that the only thing inside Dante’s pussy that could satisfy him, except himself, was Yamato. And Dante mocked him, because Yamato was basically a part of him, so it didn’t change much. Dante, on the other hand, loved using toys, but he had always used them on himself or had other people using them on himself, so he didn’t know what he would feel about using one on Vergil. However, his mind repressed in a corner those questions (he would think about them right before collapsing into the sleep), and Dante just grabbed the vibrator and quickly washed it with cold water and soap.

By the time he was in bed again, his pussy was still pulsating because of the denied orgasm, and Dante didn’t know if he should wait, calm down and try again, or just force the climax on his itching body. He went for the second choice. The round head of the vibrator was slicker of some soap Dante put to make the friction easier. Dante put it against his pussy and turned it on.

The shock of pleasure was so strong his whole body arched, and Dante licked his lips. He regretted he didn’t buy one to put inside his body as well, because his fingers were nice and slipped in nicely, but his insides were so swollen that having something bigger would definitely send his mind in heaven. He couldn’t imagine Vergil’s dick sheathed inside him, however, the idea of his brother fingering his needy pussy while rubbing the tail against his clit wasn’t so bad either.

Dante closed his eyes. He could see Vergil towering on him, giving him pleasure and enjoying the idea he was the only one who made his little brother lose control, made his voice break and his body shake. He set the speed of the vibrator at maximum, and his pussy hurt more as the stimulus got more intense. Dante had to sink his fingers deeper and draw circles with the vibrator to finally obtain the pleasure he was looking for.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he wanted, because his body was already tired from the failed first attempt. He growled, better than nothing, that was the only solace he could rely onto. Now he was in the mood of sleeping, but as he turned on his side, he felt something dense leaking on his thighs, and he groaned. Even with his legs limp, Dante dragged himself to the bathroom to get cleaned. Ten minutes later, he was sleeping on his back and only woke up when he smelt something nice.

Dante didn’t come back to his senses immediately. He lingered in a state where he knew he was awake, but he barely heard or smelt anything around him. There was something sweet, with a tinge of coffee, which became more and more intense that the flavor brought him to open his eyes. His body felt like a single block of rock and he didn’t have enough strength to move it, so he closed his eyes again.

An indefinite amount of time later, he felt a weight climbing on his bed with a coarse “Meow.” and something soft decided to settle on his chest. Mr. Fluffle’s tail slapped his face twice, and Dante was forced to awaken.

“Yes, yes… I’m awake.” He moved the cat away with one arm and didn’t notice the outraged look he received. “Mmmh… breakfast…” His head was heavy due to the lack of sleep and it dangled on his chest. “Wait, who’s making breakfast?”

Despite being devoured by the desire of sleeping, Dante stood up. He wobbled a bit and dragged himself to the stairs; he had to be careful not to step on Mr. Fluffle, who kept dashing around his legs meowing at him.

“What’s wrong? Haven’t you eaten yet?” Dante asked him when he finally managed to reach the bottom of the stairs.

“He has.” Vergil replied from the kitchen. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Dante didn’t expect him to be back before that evening, so he was surprised. But then realized that no one else could have entered the shop and prepared the breakfast. He sat at the counter in the kitchen and looked at his brother’s back; his hair was slightly wet.

“When did you come back?”

“About half an hour ago. I took a shower and you didn’t wake up.”

“I didn’t hear a thing. Yesterday I couldn’t fall asleep.” Dante stretched both arms in the air. “Mmmh, what’s good for breakfast?”

“Coffee, milk, toasted bread.”

“Good.”

“You couldn’t sleep alone when you were a child. Did you fall back in the old habit?”

Dante shrugged. “I am used to hear your snores now, so I felt a bit lonely.”

Vergil wrinkled his nose. “I do not snore.”

“Yeah sure, you can hear yourself in your sleep, can’t you?”

The view of the toasted bread covered in peanut butter and jam makes his stomach growl, and the scent of the coffee makes him drool. His mouth was watery, and Dante gulped down, feeling the saliva trailing down to his stiff stomach. He would have slept more, but now that he was awake, he craved some food, and the vivid red of the strawberry jam and the warm orangish of the apricot one were more than inviting. Dante grabbed one slice and sank his teeth in it. The crunchy noise was pleasant, and the sweet taste invaded his mouth: his stomach gurgled in pleasure.

“Damn, it’s good.”

“Lately you have your appetite back.” Vergil notices casually, but he is relieved his brother isn’t refusing food anymore.

“It seems so.” Dante replies with his mouth full.

By the time Dante has finished his two slices, Vergil is still eating one. He pulls the plate towards Dante. “Do you want it?”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m tired. I’ll go to sleep.” Vergil takes the last sip from his mug and stands up. “Wash the dishes.”

Dante doesn’t hide a yawn. “Sure. Goodnight.”

“Wake me up for lunch.”

Vergil fell asleep the moment he put his head on the pillow, he didn’t even cover himself with the blanket. When he woke up, he didn’t know if it was lunch time or not and he didn’t even care. As his mind tuned in to reality, he realized his body was burning and he felt something wet and warm wrapped around his dick.

There was his brother’s head between his legs. Dante raised his head and freed his mouth with a pop; he licked his lips and propped on one hand. It took Vergil few seconds to realize that Dante was completely naked in front of him.

“…is lunch ready?” The light coming from the window was bothering him even if filtering through the curtains. Vergil covered his eyes with one arm.

“Not yet.”

Dante’s husky voice forced an immediate reaction from his body. Vergil twitched and he was fully awake.

“You asked me to wake you up for lunch.” Dante poked him with a smirk.

“I hoped for lunch to be ready.”

“We can order some pizza.”

Even if Dante threw in the suggestion casually, Vergil couldn’t help but think that for a long time he hadn’t been talking about eating pizza or throwing a tantrum to eat some. He was relieved that somehow Dante acquired an old habit that made him who he was. However, his state of mind was trashed away in the exact moment his brother towered above him and spread the labia of his pussy with two fingers.

Vergil grabbed the sheets under him to stop himself from grabbing Dante’s hips and impaling him on his erection – oh, he would have done it, if his little brother wasn’t pregnant and he was afraid he could hurt both Dante and the baby. Instead, he looked Dante slowly descending and guiding his cock inside him. Vergil knew he should have wondered if anything was wrong and what caused that twist in Dante, but he missed the view of his flustered face too much to connect the right compartments of his brain. Vergil breathed fast, but not loudly, until Dante completely took him in and sat down. His hands slipped on Dante’s thighs and felt the strong muscles with the tips of his fingers.

“I wanted to undress you.” Vergil didn’t complain, yet he sounded a bit off.

“Next time.”

“Something sexy.” His mind was still wandering in between sleep and waking, so Vergil almost didn’t notice what he said, and forgot about it right after the words left his mouth.

Maybe he was still sleeping and that was all a dream. Probably Dante was cooking downstairs and he was about to awaken because of the smell of food or by Dante’s voice. Then, Dante started moving, and Vergil tilted his head backwards in absolute bliss. Dante was so tight he was squeezing Vergil at each motion. However, he still managed to make his cock slide almost out and then all back in without any apparent effort, if not that of pumping the movement with his knees.

“Ngh, shit.” Dante combed his hair back, uncovering his sweaty face. “I should cut it.”

Vergil observed the nice view of his brother breaking down in pleasure just for him. He sat down and wrapped both arms around his waist. “It’s not that bad.” He raised one arm and put it on his head to keep his hair back in place. “Maybe trimming them out…” Vergil groaned as Dante descended faster. “…a bit.” He opened his mouth and munched on his right pectoral. Not as soft as a woman’s, still solid enough to maintain a firm shape but soft enough to gently sink his teeth in it.

“I lactated only once.” A moan interrupted Dante’s chuckle. “I don’t think it will happen before the baby is born.”

“I wonder.”

Vergil sucked a bit on the nipple, he licked and nibbled it. Dante passed his fingers through Vergil’s hair and made him raise his head. “So, pizza for lunch?” He grinned at him.

It didn’t take a huge effort for Vergil to upturn Dante and being the one on top. He missed when, at the beginning, they still could mingle fight and sex to assert their dominance on the other: Vergil never pushed it too far, and Dante was more wary of his body and the injuries he could take. However, it didn’t take him much to roll their positions over without being indelicate (and Dante not reacting was a huge help).

“Pizza?” Vergil huffed at him. “Nice timing, as always.”

“Just wait when the baby will be born, brother.” Dante took his face into his hands. “Your reign will be over, and I will be the one riding you.” He dragged Vergil down and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's too damn hot everywhere.


	15. Drink it down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drink (ir)responsibly.

Nero enjoyed his new job. He called almost every day, and each time he had a good excuse. The first time, he did it because it seemed polite. The second time, he wanted to ask Dante how he was doing. The third time, he asked them where he could find a good ammo shop. Dante and Vergil didn’t mind about hearing his voice; if the telephone rang around dinner time, probably it was Nero.

The first day of pause he had (out of two per week), he dropped by the _Devil May Cry_ while he was walking around the town to know it better. Actually, that was his destination from the start, but he didn’t say that to Dante and Vergil; maybe he would have, if only Trish and Lady weren’t there as well. He didn’t want to seem like a child who couldn’t stay away from his parents, especially because it seemed like the girls enjoyed cooing to him as a mocking joke, and any excuse was excellent to make him blush – Nero blushed quite easily for a man who acted cool all the time.

“Hey, look who’s here!” Lady approached him in a friendly way, as if they interacted more than few times and only because circumstances forced them to. “How’s your new job going?”

“Uhm… pretty well. It’s a bit boring.” Nero massaged his head and tried to choose the right words, because he didn’t want to seem rude while talking about his current boss. “I just stand there and listen to rich people talking.”

“I know that man, and probably this money will be the easiest of your life.” Lady confirmed Nero’s worries. “He is a good man. Maybe you will kick one or two thieves, but those are usually discouraged when a bodyguard is around.”

Trish chuckled. “If there was such a cute bodyguard around my target, I would give it a try.”

Nero’s skin was pale, and he couldn’t hide the warm blush spreading on his cheeks. He looked away and cursed his own brain for reminding him how scantily Trish used to dress when she was in Fortuna. His resolution of not falling into their traps shattered earlier than expected.

“By the way–” Trish crossed the right leg on the left one. “–isn’t your little girlfriend with you?”

“Right, Kyrie, wasn’t it?” Lady sneaked back into the conversation. “I suppose she stayed in Fortuna.”

“Yes, she did.”

Lady shrugged. “Quite a shame. She would have enjoyed such a big town, I’m sure. Dresses, accessories, fancy cafés… these lack in Fortuna. And we could have known her better.”

Trish noticed how Nero’s features got more rigid and the embarrassment on his face disappeared quite fast. “Once you get used to a certain lifestyle, changing could be a big trauma.” She never crossed paths with Kyrie when she was in Fortuna, but she heard rumors from the knights and comments directly from her brother, Credo: a nice girl devoted to the religion who blindly believed to everything Sanctus and the Church practiced. The fact she remained in Fortuna, where her little happy world proved being a lie and collapsed in one day, showed that she still clung to that shattered past. Trish wasn’t so sure Nero was the same as her.

“She is quite busy with the children. I couldn’t ask her to leave.” Nero stated with a firm voice, and both Lady and Trish understood that wasn’t a good path to walk on.

“And you are busy with the future mommy here.” Lady pointed at Dante, who was reading a comic behind the desk. “At each his own.”

Dante heard his name and popped his face from behind the comic. “Hey, I can take care of myself.”

“Sure.” Trish nodded, but her smirk told another story. “Where in the hell is Vergil? We came here to get our share of money from the hunt and he isn’t showing his ugly face.”

“I told you he is with Morrison. They should be here at any–here they are.” Dante pointed at the door with one arm. “See? They are in time.” The door opened and Vergil entered, followed by Morrison.

Lady wrinkled her nose. “Your watch is broken, Dante. They are half an hour late.”

Morrison chuckled as he took off his hat. Everyone in the room wondered how he could walk around in that and wearing a long coat without looking worn out by the heat.

“I apologize, my ladies. I didn’t mean to be late, but business beckoned and I couldn’t refuse the call.” Morrison took out two white envelopes from the inner pocket of the coat “Here, for the most splendid hunters in town.” and tended them to the girls. “I’ve withheld the money to repair the damages you’ve caused to the hospital. Three equal parts, so no one will be unsatisfied.”

Lady huffed. “I can control my thunders sure. Let’s ignore Lady and proceed to use my demonic powers to fry some demons and the entire hospital’s electrical system!” She mimicked in a silly voice.

Trish put both hands on her hips. “Next time I’ll let them envelope you in their drool then.”

“As if you didn’t let that happen before causing a short circuit.”

Vergil massaged his forehead. “This is the last time I work with them.”

“You said it last time too.” Dante reminded him.

“This time for real. I can’t believe we always have less money than planned because they can’t distinguish a wall from a demon.”

That statement made Lady and Trish forget they were mad at each other, and both turned at the same time to Vergil. Nero, who was ignored, moved a bit more on the corner of the sofa. He admired how Vergil didn’t falter at the double murderous glance directed at him, and Lady and Trish were definitely two people Nero would never want to face in a life or death showdown.

“Excuse me, but who cut in pieces that statue and blamed the demons for it?” Lady feigned ignorance. “Oh yes, it was you!”

“That statue was an eyesore.” was Vergil’s blunt reply.

He wasn’t wrong. Both Lady and Trish saw that statue glorifying the worse of the human race, slavery and shit, and it wasn’t even aesthetically pleasant, and immediately though they could just pretend demons destroyed it during the battle. Vergil was just quicker than them.

“You are the last one who can blame us for destroying public property, Vergil.” Trish scolded him.

Vergil raised one eyebrow. “And are you referring to?”

“Redgrave City, of course.”

Nero froze on the spot. He couldn’t believe Trish would drop such a bomb so casually, with the high risk of igniting something more than a quarrel over lost money.

However, his fears didn’t turn into reality. Vergil sighed.

“I thought you were more than satisfied by the money I paid you to dethrone me. Even if none of you managed to.”

Trish glanced at Lady, who shrugged. “He isn’t wrong.”

“Dante usually never pays us at all.” Trish agrees.

Dante butts in. “Because you tag along without me asking you. Spontaneous help, charity, call it as you wish.”

The girls looked at each other. “Sure. All excuses for your poor money management.” Lady pointed out. “Whatever, I’ll go shopping.”

Vergil opened the door.

“Oh, how gallant.” Trish mocked him as she walked out.

“You’ve learnt your manners, haven’t you?” Lady echoed her.

“I made sure to notify to all the shops that we won’t pay for any of your purchases anymore.” Vergil didn’t show any external sign of enjoyment, but he was satisfied at their shocked faces and suppressing a winning smirk was hard. “Enjoy your shopping.” He slammed the door behind them. “Hi, Nero.”

“Uh, hi, Vergil.”

Dante chuckled. “You are so petty, brother.”

“And you are an idiot.” Vergil retorted as blunt as a sword. “It took me a while to set it up, but we won’t have dresses on our bills anymore.”

Even if Dante gently scolded his brother, he felt a sort of devilish relief. Lady and Trish were his friends, and, despite the scenes he always made whenever he saw a branded bag or shirt on his monthly expenses, Dante had never really held a grudge against them; they were always at his side, and those clothes were a scan payback for the countless times they tagged along with him without receiving any money. On the other hand, Dante was aware sometimes both abused of his lack of reaction, and he couldn’t help but be happy that Vergil brought some stability in their job and got rid of that little side effect without carrying any guilt.

Morrison cackled. “When Vergil told me he would do that, I couldn’t believe it.”

“I’m not like Dante.”

“Yeah, and that is a godsend for the agency.” Morrison put the hat back on his head. “I’ve gotta some stuff to do. Next time, I’ll bring you to a very nice tearoom. Best tea in town guaranteed.”

“I’m looking forward to it. See you, Morrison.”

“I’ll take my leave. Goodbye, Dante, Vergil.” He made a small gesture with his head towards Nero “Nero.” and left.

Dante closed the comic. He looked confused as he stared at his brother. “Who would have imagined it? My big constipated brother is friendly with someone.”

“My bowels work correctly.”

“Ah, no I meant that–”

Vergil ignored Dante’s attempts of explaining his joke. “That Morrison is pragmatic and has deep knowledge on demon hunting. He doesn’t trick us either.” He explained bluntly. “And his tastes in food and beverages are very refined.”

It sounded like Vergil appreciated Morrison as a middleman. Dante didn’t remember he had ever complained about his manner or way of handling the jobs even once, which was a first, since Vergil had critics for everyone, even for Nero.

Nero remained in silence until Dante put the comic away and stood up. “Time to go, Nero.”

“Where?”

“It looks like we have some stuff to buy.”

Vergil took out a piece of paper neatly folded twice and opened it, then passed it to Nero who read it aloud.

“Stroller, cradle, toilet brush… toilet brush?”

“Vergil broke it.”

“I didn’t break it.” Vergil crossed his arms. “It was defective from the start.”

“And a pacifier, a baby bottle… shopping for the baby?”

“Vergil wants an early start.” Dante shrugged. “We could wait another month.”

“Better safe than sorry.” Vergil replied with a firm voice. “Llast-minute shopping is out of question.”

“We have three months.”

“Less than three months.”

Dante gave up on Vergil’s clarification. “Yes, less than three months.” He saw how his brother glared at him, but didn’t mind. “So, Nero, are you in?”

Nero was almost sure Dante asked him to tag along because he didn’t want to be left alone with Vergil to complete the task. It was pretty bizarre that three men entered a shop for newborn babies without any woman with them, and that attracted on them more attention than they wanted to. However, even if there was Patty or Lady or Trish, people would whisper at their backs because of Vergil.

They first went for the cradles, and Vergil glanced at them. Dante knew he wasn’t fully convinced.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like these.”

“The design?” Dante raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think the baby will wake up at night because the cradle’s color sucks.”

“What if the baby gets stuck in between these bars and the mattress?”

Dante lowered his voice. “I suppose our baby could endure it.”

“What if he or she gets hurt?”

For once, Vergil was doing normal observations that an over-apprehensive parent would do and didn’t stray from the path putting bizarre additions about demons in his comments. A couple of ladies behind them overheard him and nodded solemnly.

“I’m sorry.” One of them got their attention. “We couldn’t help but hear it. I had the same problem with my first baby.” She had a hand on her belly showing from under the flower-patterned dress; she was probably due very soon. “She kept sticking her right foot in the space between the mattress and the cradle, and I was worried she might get hurt. I bought a cot bumper to cover the edges. I think you can find them on that aisle.” She pointed to an area beyond the cradles.

Vergil made a small nod with his head. “Thank you.” He didn’t show any particular emotion, but the women smiled at him.

“It was a pleasure. Grandparents are always the first to worry, aren’t they?”

The women kept walking, leaving behind some confusion which was quickly cleared.

“They probably thought you are the daddy.” Dante patted on Nero’s shoulder. “Let’s go find a cot bumper.”

“No, Dante.” Vergil stopped him. “We must choose a cradle first.”

“Do you really want to buy it now?”

“Did you really think I would waste time in a useless inspection?”

Dante huffed and looked at a wooden rocking cradle that didn’t look so bad. “That one.”

Vergil followed the trail of his index. “I hope you are talking about that white cradle that won’t move of an inch.”

“No, the brown one which rocks.”

“Are you insane? That thing will creak all night long if the baby has a restless sleep.”

Dante got closer and made the cradle rock few times. “It doesn’t creak.”

“The more we use it, the more it will likely make some unpleasant noises.”

“So tell me, what do you want to buy?” Dante crossed his arms and waited for Vergil to make his choice.

Vergil had already made his mind up, because he walked straight to a cradle which was open on one side. “This one can stick to our bed. The baby will be close to us.”

“And will never leave our room.” Dante shook his head. “I don’t want that.”

Vergil went back to face Dante. “And I don’t want that.”

They were glaring at each other with such feral intensity, that Nero was afraid they would summon their swords at any moment to settle the matter with a battle.

“Uhm… hey.” He waved his hand to get their attention. “How about this one?” He put a hand on a white cradle which firmly stood on two legs. “It can cradle, but there’s the brake, and it’s not too tall. I think it could stay next the bed.” Nero was sure that could be a nice compromise, before Dante and Vergil turned to him and analyzed the cradle with judging eyes. “…you can also personalize the color. It’s written on the tag.”

That seemed to be the last little push to bring them to an agreement. Dante’s features relaxed, and Vergil’s eyebrows weren’t frowning anymore.

“We can make it red.”

Vergil snorted, and yet he still maintained some elegance in exhaling from his nose. “So tacky as always. We’ll have it aquamarine blue.”

“Aquamarine blue? You are spending too much time with Patty.” Dante crossed his arms. “And what’s wrong with red, huh?”

Nero felt the strong desire of being allowed to summon in public his wings and smash their heads one against the other. However, he resisted, and let them argue on the color until he noticed how the price for a personalized color would be, and both settled for white – they could add some color later with blankets, ribbons and toys. Of course, they had issues with the stroller and the cot bumper as well. Each time, Nero pretended he was interested in something else and didn’t know them; he was afraid of the moment they would choose the baby bottle and pacifier, considering the wide choice of patterns and models.

“Why that thing?”

“It’s beautiful. Look at these little seals, Vergil.”

It seemed like Vergil didn’t enjoy the pattern of white and gray seals on a light blue background, but he got to choose the stroller, so he couldn’t oppose that as much as he wanted, nor he complained when Dante chose a pink tacky blanket patterned with red roses. But he didn’t go easy with scornful glances which Dante promptly ignored.

“Hey, Nero Nero! Come here, look.”

Vergil was checking the list when he heard Dante calling Nero as if he had just seen something of an extreme importance. He raised his head and looked at Nero going near Dante just to be unable to flee from his surprise attack, and found himself with a pair of rabbit ears on his head. At first, Nero didn’t know what Dante put on him, but as he grabbed the ears, his face was fueled with irritation.

“Stop mocking me!”

“Why? It suits you.” Dante laughed and managed to ruffle his hair.

Nero blushed –Vergil noticed the reddish shade on his cheeks– but didn’t slap Dante’s hand; he stepped back and moved his head away. He looked a bit flustered, but not angry. “Why are they even selling this stuff?”

“Beats me. Hey, look at this seal.” Dante almost pushed on his face a blue seal plushie. “Isn’t it cute? Little kiss.” He pressed the snout against the tip of Nero’s nose.

“Stop it!” Nero commented pushing the seal away from his nose. “I didn’t think you are the plushie-type.”

“I used to like them. I had my personal army when I was a kid.” Nero didn’t talk back, so Dante side glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… you’ve never talked about your childhood.”

“Because there isn’t much to say. And it’s not like you’ve told me anything about yours.”

“Because there isn’t much to say.” Nero spells his same words. “I was adopted by Kyrie’s family and when I turned fifteen, I was accepted into the Order.”

It seemed weird that they let Nero into such a religious and devoted order, as he was a non-believer in the first place and every inch of his spirit showed it. Moreover, from the little interactions Dante witnessed between him and the Order, he could state that Nero wasn’t the type who blindly followed the orders, no matter who gave them. He expressed his doubts, and Nero smirked.

“You receive a special treatment when your brother is the head of the knights and you are able to kill more demons than all the other veterans.” He shrugged. “But I admit I believed they would refuse me because of my attitude.”

“Did you have a plan B?”

Dante put the seal back into the basket of plushies and walked down the aisle. Nero followed him. They lazily glanced at the products without being particularly interested in any of them.

“I wanted to leave Fortuna and find a way to bring Kyrie with me. I thought that if I couldn’t become a knight, I couldn’t become anything else in that town. I just couldn’t imagine myself being, who knows, a baker?”

“Maybe you have a hidden talent for that.”

“Ha-ha.” Nero slightly pushed his arm. “Going outside would make easier gathering CDs. I had to snatch them from the black market.”

“Black market?”

“Yeah. Few people were allowed to go outside Fortuna freely, and even the most trusted men couldn’t say no to some easy money. But I didn’t have much money.”

“Wow, I guess who you took after, stealing things that aren’t yours.”

Both turned around to see if Vergil was behind them. He was at the other end of the aisle and seemed busy checking two different boxes.

“Are those biscuits?” Nero asked.

Dante shrugged. “No idea. So, you were about to start your career as a thief.”

“It’s not like they were poor, and one or two CDs less passed unnoticed.” Nero massaged his head. “The day we destroyed the Savior–”

“You.”

Nero ignored that little clarification. “–great part of my collection crumbled together with that shitty giant stone face. Call that luck…”

“Which was also an awful representation of your grandfather. He was more handsome than that.” Dante grabbed his own chin with his index and thumb. “Can’t you just tell it by looking at me?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Hey, what’s with that tone?”

Actually, Nero didn’t disagree with Dante: he truly was a handsome man, but he would rather never reveal it than inflate his ego even more.

“By the way, what kind of music were you after?”

Nero shook his head. “It’s not like I could choose, I grabbed whatever came and I had some CD I’ve never listened to more than once because they were awful. But there was this one I loved. I looked for it in some shops in town but couldn’t find it. I guess it’s really old.”

“Do you remember some songs? And how was the cover? Morrison can almost find anyone and anything.”

“But it’s just a CD, I bet he has more important things to do…” Nero hesitated.

“Nah, he likes you. And he would do anything for a price.”

“Figures. The cover was too ruined. They replaced it with a white paper, so I’ve never known the name of the band or any of the songs. But one of them was like…” Nero hummed some notes and sang some words without overdoing it, because he wasn’t confident in his singing skills. “More or less.”

“After that does it go like…” Dante added some notes and words. “…like this?”

He read the answer inside Nero’s eyes: he looked excited and nodded in a hurry. “Shit, you know that too!”

“I more than know it.” Dante smirked. “I have that exact CD at home.”

“What?!” Nero couldn’t believe he was so lucky for once. “Hey, may I listen to it a bit when we are back?”

“I can lend it to you. I have many more to listen to from my juke box.”

“Really?” Nero’s excitation came to halt, and he frown. “And what do you want for that?”

“Is it really so suspicious I’m kind with my nephew?”

“Mmmh… maybe?”

Dante huffed. “If you want to gain it so bad, then why don’t you wash the dishes today?”

“What?!”

“You had it coming.”

A bit far from them, Vergil looked at how Nero pretended to be pissed at Dante while shaking him lightly from one arm, but his smile gave it away. He caught up to them, and their laughter slowly faded away, remaining on their faces into the shape of happiness.

“You found what you were looking for?” Dante asked.

“Not really.” Vergil looked at Nero. “Have you found anything interesting here?”

“Huh… no. I’m not having a baby any soon.” For a second, his eyes turned somber, but he shook that emotion away. Vergil was about to open his mouth again, but he took too much to find anything to say: Nero talked first and broke his momentum. “If you are done, can we drop by somewhere for a drink? This air conditioning parches my throat.” As he said it, he massaged his throat.

Vergil just nodded. “Sure. You two can go ahead while I go at the register.”

He reached them ten minutes later. After exiting the shop, he saw Dante sitting inside a café on the other side of the street. The bells hanging from the door produced a nice chime as he opened and closed it.

“Where’s Nero?” Vergil put the shop bag on one of the three empty chairs around the table.

“A kid poured a milkshake on his t-shirt and went to clean himself a bit.”

Vergil noticed one of the waiters was mopping the floor not so far from where they were sitting. “They will send the cradle and the stroller at home.”

“Maybe we should think about purchasing a car, don’t you think?”

The way Vergil raised his head to look at him, made Dante believe he had just said something he strongly disagreed with – but he had no idea his brother was opposed to cars so much. His eyes were slightly open, serious and sharp. Dante expected a poisoned remark, and his stomach wrinkled. He enjoyed arguing with his brother on trivial things, but he knew how to tell apart when Vergil just wanted to quarrel for the sake of it, because part of their relationship was based on fighting each other, and when he was serious.

“How do you keep a conversation with Nero so smoothly?”

The outcome was almost disappointing, and the tension inside his stomach disappeared. But then Dante realized that Vergil, who usually never relied on the others and always followed his own path no matter where it could bring, tossed his pride away and asked him for something that was probably very personal. His stomach gurgled in pleasure – also because he smelt a strong scent of chocolate.

“Huh… what do you mean?”

“Before, at the shop.” Vergil snorted in impatience. “You two talked normally and looked like you had plenty to say to each other. How do you do?”

Now, Dante didn’t understand why both Nero and Vergil though that asking him advices on how to relate with other people was a good idea. If they had spent some time with him during his worst years, as Lady, Trish and Morrison had, they would agree it wasn’t the best idea they had ever had. But they hadn’t.

Dante hesitated. “Maybe it’s just because we’ve known each other for a longer time. Or because I’m his uncle. Usually kids are a bit more discreet with their parents.”

“I’m sure he believed you were his father.”

Vergil’s blunt reply destroyed what Dante believed to be a nice defense.

“Uhm… I really have no idea. Or–” He noticed the small twitch of Vergil’s eyebrows. “–he is interested in what we did as children.” He blurted out the first thing that came up to his mind. “You could just tell him.”

Luckily, Vergil didn’t complain he didn’t answer to his first question and easily accepted that twist. “How?”

“What?” Dante wanted to punch his face, but Vergil was too serious and wasn’t mocking him.

“I can’t just tell him out of the blue about us. He would think I’m desperately trying to talk with him.”

_ And aren’t you desperate?  _ Dante was about to tell him, but Nero came back just in time for Vergil to awkwardly grab the menu and ignore him and the huge brown stain that didn’t come off his t-shirt. Nero wrinkled his nose at that strange reaction but decided to ignore it and sat down. Two seconds later, the waiter hurried to their table: he was only waiting for his return to approach them.

Dante believed he would enjoy his double sized strawberry ice cream and cream topped with whipped cream, sliced strawberries and chocolate biscuits, but he concentrated a bit too much on Nero who unknowingly had a very good timing at speaking up in the right moment Vergil tried to talk. Instead of being a bit more invasive, Vergil elegantly shut up and just nodded at his words. Of course, being son of his father, Nero had learnt the sacred art of being a total shit in entertaining people with a nice conversation, so his attempts where chunks of sentences that went nowhere, and Dante had to be the one to keep it going.

“This job isn’t bad, maybe a bit boring. I just escort him around, but I get to see new places and stuff.”

Silence. It looked like Vergil’s lack of response which wasn’t a solemn nod of the head made Nero believe he was being a hindrance, so, of course, Dante had to intervene.

“It’s just the first week. This town is quite boring once you’ve had shopping and went to the cinema.”

“But I come from Fortuna. Everything here is entertaining to me.”

Again, each of them didn’t know how to continue. Dante was forced to mind his ice cream, or it would melt, while Nero and Vergil just went back to their iced coffee and chocolate milkshake.

“…by the way, I haven’t seen Mr. Fluffle around when I arrived.”

Dante pretended he had his mouth filled with biscuits and didn’t reply. But he had to when he noticed his dumb brother, for some reason, didn’t say anything.

“He is holding a grudge because yesterday we brought him to the vet.”

“Wow, he’s really a petty cat.”

“Or maybe he is petty because he is a cat.” Dante pointed out.

Later, when Vergil queued to pay, Dante managed to approach him while Nero went out with the bag.

“Why the hell didn’t _you_ talk about Mr. Fluffle? You had a chance to talk with him.”

“Because Nero was looking at you when he asked.”

He was so naïve and his face showed how much Vergil didn’t understand why he was posed such a question, that Dante didn’t want to rub more salt.

***

For some unknown reason, Nero and Vergil came back from doing the groceries with a bag filled with junk food. Dante spread it on the table and took out a bottle of white wine and one of liquor. It looked like he had just composed a very fancy diorama of a town with two skyscrapers in the middle.

“Why the booze?”

Vergil was in the toilet, and only Nero was in the kitchen. He looked a bit embarrassed.

“It’s my fault…”

“I didn’t know you were a drinker.”

“I’m not. I just said I wanted to try it sooner or later, because I’ve never had any alcohol, and Vergil put it into the cart. I told him I didn’t need it and that probably I would get drunk. So he bought all that junk food to compensate.”

Dante didn’t want to laugh, because Nero looked miserable already, but he couldn’t bear it.

“What’s so funny?” Nero blushed, and, despite being a grown adult, the pout on his lips was adorable.

“That’s his way of telling he appreciates you.”

“Like throwing me a boring book?”

“His emotions are a little constipated.” He didn’t add that, in a very different way, Nero wasn’t much different from his father; of course Nero, instead of hiding everything behind a mask of indifference, took the way of the big though boy who is always angry. “If you want a normal conversation, just tell him.”

Nero grumbled something Dante didn’t fully grasp and he pretended to be busy at putting away the groceries, but he realized he didn’t know where he should put them, so he walked around the kitchen holding two packs of chips before giving up and putting them back on the table.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine…”

As if lured out from his nest made of Dante’s clothes by Nero’s distressed mood, Mr. Fluffle threw some suspicious glances from the door. He walked to Nero and meowed to get his attention.

“You have survived the vet then.”

Nero wasn’t doing anything to hold him into his arms, so Mr. Fluffle raised on his rear paws and scratched his leg.

“Hey! My leg isn’t some scratch-me-toy! Geez.” The moment Nero took him into his arms, Mr. Fluffle calmed down.

“Go play with him in the office.” Dante commanded him. “He tends to jump on the furniture, and Vergil doesn’t want him in the kitchen.”

Nero grabbed one of Mr. Fluffle’s toys from the shelf and sat on the sofa. Despite being a cat, he had a very outgoing personality, and was easily entertained by that long feather. He chased it with all his might as Nero made it slither on the floor. When Vergil went out from the toilet, Nero got distracted for a second, and Mr. Fluffle managed to snatch the feather away from his hand.

“Ah.” The second Nero looked at the cat, Vergil went in the kitchen. He sighed. “What should I do, huh?”

Mr. Fluffle was busy munching on the feather and ignored him.

Nero noticed how the cat stayed far from both Dante and Vergil. He tended to walk away if they got to closer, no matter if he was comfortably resting somewhere in the room, and the only person he approached with no problem was Nero.

“What did the vet do to him?” He asked when they gathered for dinner.

“A simple check. I can’t understand what’s wrong with him.” Dante sounded a bit off, as if he was worried.

“You’ve spoiled him too much, that’s all.” Vergil reminded him.

“Don’t be jealous. I spoil you as well.”

However, Mr. Fluffle forgot about his grudge when, after dinner, Dante took out the harness.

“Are we friends again?” He asked as he scratched him under the chin. Mr. Fluffle licked his fingers and poked the head against his hand. “I guess we are. By the way–” Dante turned to Vergil. “–I’ll meet with Lady. Do you want to come?”

“I’ll pass.”

Nero would enjoy a walk, but he instinctively replied “I’ll pass too.” thinking that shouldn’t sound like he wanted to spend some time with Vergil to see if they could talk almost properly.

Dante left, and on the house fell the silence.

Until that moment, Nero wasn’t aware how Dante’s presence was the main core of all their interactions. Not that he and Vergil had never talked when alone, it happened many times. But they conversations were always running in a single direction; Nero talked and talked, until he realized that maybe Vergil could be annoyed by all those words, so he asked what he thought, and he received small replies and then silence. As V, he tended to speak more, maybe because his demon side didn’t interfere; but it was still weird how he tended to act. With Dante, Vergil seemed to speak more freely. At the café, he noticed they were talking, and felt almost bad when he disrupted their conversation with his presence.

The sound of a heavy object put on the table distracted him from his thoughts. He raised his head and saw the bottle of white wine in front of him. Probably, Vergil noticed his confused face, because he asked “Are you okay?”

“…yeah. Do you want to drink it?”

“You don’t want to?”

Nero didn’t exactly know because he nodded. If because he felt guilty Vergil went all the way to buy it and he wasn’t stubborn enough to put it back in the shelf, or if because he really wanted to try once. In Fortuna, he always avoided liquors, beer and such because he felt bad doing it knowing that Kyrie didn’t approve of that: one glass may bring to the whole bottle, she used to repeat. But a single glass couldn’t hurt, right?

“Let’s drink.”

Apparently, Kyrie wasn’t wrong. The white wine was so cold that the surface of the bottle fogged because of the outside temperature and little drops of condensation dripped down on the small table. The taste was refreshing and the wine didn’t burn his stomach as much as Nero thought, especially because he kept eating a chip after another. Against all expectations, he ended up sitting on the end of the sofa opposite to Vergil with a glass of wine in hand as the level in the bottle slowly decreased.

After two glasses, Vergil abruptly talked over the television.

“Do you want to know a bit about my childhood?”

The sentence was blurted out without any visible reason, but Nero didn’t mind. He nodded and felt the head pleasantly lighter than usual. In a normal state, he would wonder why Vergil decided to speak of his own will without any external input (Dante).

“I do.”

“I don’t think you saw the house at the feet of the tree… no wait, you did.”

“Yes. You told me you were playing on a horse.” Nero remembered, but right now the exact words V told him where fuzzy. “Do you remember you told me?”

“I remembered everything clearly right after I merged back into my original self. But the more day passed, the more the memories mingled among themselves.”

“I see… then that was your house?”

“It was. Nobody has ever come there. We could only go in town with our mother.” Vergil stopped to drink some wine. “But sometimes I managed to sneak out and go to the bookshop on my own. I always had to write my name on the books because Dante pretended all the things in our room were his.” He sounded pissed at first, but then smiled, and Nero didn’t notice he was looking at how his face relaxed with his mouth opened. “If I think about it now, he always wanted to spend time with me.”

Nero nodded, even if there was nothing to agree with. He just liked how his head bobbed so easily on his neck. “It’s normal.” He said all of a sudden. “You are the big brother after all.”

Vergil looked at Nero, stretched an arm to take some chips, but that bag was empty. He put the glass down and fought to open another one, because it seemed like his fingers couldn’t properly pinch the surface. When he managed to, he looked overly satisfied. “Do you think so?”

“I wanted to be around Credo all the time.” Nero tended an arm with the palm up and waited for Vergil to sprinkle some chips on it. Vergil reacted a bit late at that silent request.

“Credo was your adoptive brother, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. I wanted to become a knight, so I stuck to him whenever I could, and he let me to. At least until I grew up.”

Nero stopped and was ready to continue, as he believed Vergil would stay silent as always, but he surprised him.

“What happened?”

“Huh…” He had to grab the thread of thoughts from before. “Ah, well, he told me I was a grown up and had to act accordingly. No more being a scoundrel.” He wrinkled his nose. “He became even more severe when I joined the knights. He wasn’t a bad big brother, but if I think about it now…” He made the little wine left in the glass rotate twice. “…maybe he couldn’t separate being a knight from being… you know, the rest of his life.” Nero gulped the wine down and filled it again. “Actually, I don’t remember a single time he praised me since when I became a knight.”

“Praising because you were doing your job?” Vergil wasn’t minding his tongue as always. However, the wine was letting him looser than usual, so he noticed that Nero saddened and added. “Or praising you because you were doing a good job?”

“Mmmh… the latter, maybe? I… they…” He ate some more chips, but those were so salty that he had to drink some wine to soothe the tingle on his tongue. “I was pissed.” Nero declared raising his voice.

“Why?”

“Because everyone always sent me on missions to get rid of my _bothersome presence_ …” He pronounced those words mimicking a silly accent without restraining an evident disgust. “…and no one was surprised I was back. _Oh well, he is strong, he doesn’t need to be welcomed back! He is expected to survive like a cockroach!_ ” As Nero started gesticulating to put emphasis on his irritation, Vergil took the glass from his hand and put it on the table. “They thought I didn’t hear them. And Credo said _I expect you to be back, because you are strong, even if you don’t stick to the rules as much as you should do!_ Kyrie was the only one who worried.” Pause. “But she worried about everyone else as well.” His voice lost all the colors.

Nero glanced around and his eyes gleamed as he spotted his almost empty glass. “Damn, the wine is finished already?” He commented as he filled his glass one last time and emptied the bottle.

“We have the liquor.”

Vergil didn’t remember his body was so heavy, nor that the floor was so far. However, he managed to go to the kitchen, grab the bottle of liquor and come back without tumbling anywhere nor smashing the bottle. The cap opened with a crack, and Vergil stared at it with a serious look.

“What happens?”

“I haven’t taken two clean glasses.” He declared solemnly.

“Who cares?” Nero poured on both glasses the same amount they did with the wine, almost filling them with the amber colored liquid. “It smells nice.”

The wine didn’t smell as much as that liquor, but the taste was nice and it slid down the throat like fresh water. The liquor spicy smell’s matched with its strong flavor which left a pleasant taste mingled with a burning itchy which exploded in a fire as it reached the stomach. Nero opened his mouth wide open to breath in as much fresh air as possible, but closed it when he noticed Vergil wasn’t having any particular reaction, except looking at the golden reflections of the liquor through the glass. What Nero didn’t know was that Vergil was just better than him at hiding that the liquor was strong, but his body could probably bear another sip or two.

Unfortunately, their glasses held in more than few sips, and none of them was intentioned to let the other know the limit was surpassed the moment they drank half of the wine.

Both stared at the glass, waiting for some motivation to force them to drink a bit more. Nero was the first one who dared to, then he soothed his stomach with more chips.

The alcohol running around his body gives him enough strength to speak his mind. “Do I bother you?”

“No, you don’t.” Vergil frowns. “I mean, you bothered me when you stopped me from crushing Dante, but I wasn’t completely myself back then.”

“You were trying to kill him! What did you expect me to do?!”

“Mind your business!” Vergil took a little sip, and the liquor loosened his tongue. “You are too kind. That’s good.”

“Why?”

“Because if I had killed Dante, I would have died of heartbreak.” He massaged his forehead. Now his head was heavy all of a sudden. “I don’t know how he survived believing he killed me.” He raised his head, and believed he couldn’t move it anymore, so he stared at the ceiling. “I know it. Dante is stronger than me. Has always been.” Vergil sounded like a proud brother.

“I wish Credo said that about me as well. Waaaait–” Nero was sure the alcohol kicked in enough for him to imagine things. “Did he kill you? How have you survived that?”

Vergil leaned the head on the backseat, because he felt like he couldn’t keep it straight on his own anymore. Instead of the glass, he had now in his hand another bag of chips – buying those many wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“Have I ever told you how I and Dante met Ma–no, Lady?”

Nero didn’t understand how Lady could be involved in all of that, but his desire of knowing more about his father and uncle was stronger than the alcohol which tenderly meowed from his stomach telling him sweetly he should close his eyes and surrender to the sleep.

Vergil wasn’t very precise in telling the story, he didn’t go into detail. He started from Temen-ni-gru, omitting he was the one who summoned the tower, and Nero thought the entire fault was on this Arkham guy. Vergil and Dante fought each other three times, then Vergil decided he wanted to stay in Hell, where his father once lived. He left Dante behind and fell right into the trap of his own pride.

For a second, Nero’s mind was cleared from the alcohol, and his mind wondered when exactly Vergil went in Fortuna. Then Vergil said he was turned into a mindless minion by Mundus, and Nero forgot about Fortuna and his mother. Vergil didn’t spend much time.

“I don’t remember almost anything. My nightmares disappeared… but Dante, when we were in Hell… he told me he thought he killed me when I wasn’t myself. I was so drenched in Mundus’ power that he couldn’t feel me…” Vergil shook his head. “…he said as a joke, but he never talked about it again. He wasn’t looking at me when he said it.” He was staring at his own hands. “I made him suffer… I suck.”

Nero believed that was the right moment to say anything that could distract Vergil from what looked like a quick descent into self-destructive thoughts.

“I like talking with you.”

The following morning, he would think again about those words and hope Vergil wouldn’t remind them. But now that was all his blurred mind could produce. It seemed to work. Vergil raised his head and looked at him.

“But you hardly reply, so maybe I bother you.”

“…no, you don’t. I let you talk because you seem to enjoy it. I loved when dad or mom listened to me.” Vergil paused a bit and narrowed his eyes; his mind was frantically looking for a particular memory. “Dante loved when I stopped reading and listened to him.”

“I want to talk with you. Not to you.”

Vergil didn’t remember if Dante complained when he remained silent for too long. Maybe he did, he was so noisy and spoiled back then.

“I didn’t think about that. I will talk with you.” Vergil massaged his forehead again. “Are you happy here, Nero?”

Nero felt his head spinning lightly. “I am. I found another family.” He was digging his way down to some deep memories he had never recalled until that day. “But… you know, I was adopted and they never cuddled me like they did with Kyrie or Credo.” His adoptive parents were kind to him, but he was never hugged or spoiled like they did with Kyrie, and Nero was just too grateful they didn’t leave him rotting into the orphanage to complain. He believed that was more than enough.

“I mean, they could pat my head sometimes, or…” He felt a hand on his head. Nero didn’t notice when Vergil got closer, but he didn’t say anything. “…or hug me and let me fall asleep on their chest.” The hand caressing his head slid down to his shoulder and pulled him closer.

“Like this?”

Nero leaned his head on Vergil’s chest. “Yes, like this.” Vergil took the glass away from his hand, but this time Nero didn’t try getting it back. He closed his eyes. “I felt bad sometimes, because I thought they adopted me only to be better in the eyes of Sparda and not because they liked me… does it make any sense?”

“It does.”

Nero didn’t know that having an arm around his shoulders and his head leaning on another body could be so pleasant. He wished he experienced it earlier in his life.

“…may I call you dad?”

“Of course. I’m your father.” Vergil had his head tilted back and was lazily staring at the ceiling.

“Okay, dad.”

None of them remembered when they fell asleep.

Nero woke up and the first thing he became aware of was the terrible taste lingering in his mouth and coming directly from his throat. Then, he felt like someone took the brain away from his head and put in something much heavier instead. He couldn’t raise it properly, nor open his eyes. His voice didn’t come out properly, so he emitted a wheeze. Wherever he slept, it was uncomfortably enough to make his bones ache.

“Good morning.”

He knew that voice, it was Dante.

“…mor…” His voice faded in a worn groan.

“I heard dogs dying with more dignity.” Dante teased him. “Okay, sleep some more.”

It took Nero ten more minutes to elaborate what was happening around him and open his eyes. In few seconds he remembered more or less what happened the previous evening, and his brain suddenly connected it with the badly shaped mattress under him. It wasn’t a mattress. It was Vergil. He was still sleeping and looked so tired, it seemed like he wouldn’t move from that position anymore.

Nero couldn’t tell if he felt more embarrassed or nauseous.

Dante came back with a bottle of water in his hand. “I let you two alone for an hour and a half and I come back to you two drunk and cuddling on the sofa.”

Nero didn’t have time to feel irritated at him, because the transparent water made him drool, and he tended both arms at it like a man who had been lost for days in the desert. He sat down in the little cramped space that wasn’t occupied by Vergil’s body and hit the bottle. He let it go only when he drank the last drop.

“Congratulations on your first hangover.” Dante’s voice was at a normal sound level, but it echoed into Nero’s ears.

“Please, kill me…” The words sounded in his head like coming from another dimension.

His stomach was revolting, his mouth was still parched despite all that water and his body wasn’t responding to his brain’s commands of standing up.

“It’s not that bad. Here, this helps.”

A glass of milk, some slices of bread with jam and an apple. Dante prepared him the breakfast.

“No coffee?”

“Coffee doesn’t help with the hangover.”

“…then they all lied to me.”

Dante didn’t ask who these _they_ were. He made sure Nero fought his nausea and ate everything.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

Nero slept all night long, meaning he shouldn’t need more sleep. But he nodded. “Yes.” His voice still sounded like he was in the otherworld already.

He didn’t let Dante help him climbing the stairs, but he gladly accepted him adjusting his pillow and tucking him in. The bed was so soft and comfortable that the moment he thought he only needed to rest his body a bit, he fell asleep again.

Dante went back in the living room and found Vergil sitting on the sofa. His eyes were voided of everything. He was staring in front of him without giving any sign of life. Dante waved a hand in front of his face.

“He–llo?” No response. “That’s the face of regret. I’m preparing breakfast for you as well.”

He grabbed the apron on his way to the toaster. He didn’t need it, but Dante felt in the mood of pretending he was preparing such a great meal that he needed an apron to look professional. The slices of bread jumped out, brownish on each side, and Dante put them on the plate, ready to spread butter and jam on them.

However, he didn’t even open the lid and a pair of strong arms hugged him from behind. That gesture was accompanied by a deep grunt.

“Good morning to you too, brother.”

Vergil rubbed his face on the curve of his neck. Dante put the jar on the counter.

“Did you put the glass on your pocket or is your morning glory poking my ass?” The mouth left a wet trail on his neck, raising to behind the ear, where Vergil kissed him and sent a shiver down Dante’s spine. “Nero’s sleeping upstairs.” He informed him, but Vergil seemed blinded by his own needs. He rutted against his ass with urgency, and his hands slightly trembled as he undid the knot of the elastic of his shorts.

Dante was almost forced to sit on the counter, and his trousers easily slipped down his legs together with his underwear. Vergil bent and put his head under the apron. Before he disappeared under the cloth, Dante clearly saw him licking his lips as if he was about to devour a delicious meal. Not really, but it was close to that.

No matter how many times they did it, Vergil always surprised him with the wonders he could do with his mouth. He carefully teased his clit with his tongue and made sure to lick any drop which leaked from Dante’s pussy. Dante covered his mouth with one hand, and yet he couldn’t do much to suppress the heavy sighs escaping his throat. The sensation of the wet tongue probing him was enough to make him forget about Nero sleeping above their heads and think only of the warmth pooling into his groin.

The tongue between his legs, the hands groping his thighs… the pleasure slowed Dante’s reactions, and he didn’t realize immediately that if Vergil’s fingers were sinking in the muscles of his legs, then they couldn’t possibly crawl under the t-shirt all over his torso making him wriggle because of the pleasant tickle on the skin.

“Vergil. What the–”

Dante’s voice faltered due to surprise and excitement: somehow, Vergil’s energy materialized into tendrils which looked like a small replica of the Qliphoth’s, and they were sprouting from his upper back, where he grew the tail in his demonic form, to crawl all over Dante’s body like many curious snakes. At first Dante spotted only the two which slithered under his t-shirt, but the more he looked, the more he saw: around his calves, climbing his arms, wrapping his waist. He was trapped in that blue tangle and couldn’t move freely anymore.

“Vergil.”

Dante called him again, but Vergil didn’t reply, his mind still in the haze of the sleep, and groped the bulge showing through his trousers before pulling them down his legs. Vergil’s erection bobbed a little, and Dante felt a warm wave invading his stomach as he ogled at the wet tip. Or maybe it was just because the tentacles were rubbing his clit and teasing his holes.

“Don’t make too much noise.” Even if Dante should tell that to himself. “Nero is sleeping.”

Vergil pushed his cock inside Dante’s body. He tilted his head back and growled a satisfied moan. Usually, he would control his breath, halt his voice whenever he was exposing himself too much and only loosen his restrain at the end. Now, guided by the hangover, he tossed the reason away and let the primordial need take him over. Instead of moving his hips slowly, tasting how Dante’s insides sucked him in and didn’t want to let him out and teasing his brother to the limit, he moved inside to satisfy his savage need as quickly as possible.

“V-Vergil.” Dante was trashed back and forth on the counter at each thrust. “You are lou–” A tentacle pierced into his mouth, and Dante groaned of surprise because of that unexpected move. Vergil munched on the curve of his neck and didn’t let him go.

The tentacles didn’t stop slithering on his skin, and soon Dante felt that just few thrusts and he would see the stars. He counted them in his mind as the orgasm approached, like the moment a glass would spill if filled with too much liquid. One. The wave of warmth was strong, but still not enough. Two. It was more intense, but the painful itch still crawled inside his pussy. Three. Dante was sure that another one and he would be satisfied, if only the tentacles were more precise and tingled his nipples and clit as well, instead of wobbling around like their drunk master and decreasing the intensity of the shivers stimulating his libido. He pushed his hips back in desperation, and Vergil slammed against him.

Four. Dante’s body tensed, restrained in the net of tendrils, right before melting. He arched his back and clamped his thighs on Vergil’s waist to slid more on his cock. All the energies which lead him to the climax quickly flew away from him, and his body went limp. Vergil was still pushing mercilessly inside him, dragging Dante. But it didn’t last much. He slammed both hands next to his head and thrusted one last time. Dante was sure he had never heard his voice breaking in a hiccupped moan, nor he saw often his face relaxed and completely enveloped in pleasure. Vergil was smiling.

Vergil kindly leaned on him and kissed his forehead, then put the head on his chest. The tendrils popped away in glimmers of light, and Dante felt free.

“Vergil?” His brother was breathing slowly and loudly. Dante raised his head. “Vergil?” He called again. “Are you asleep like this? Really?” Without even taking it out. “Geez, thank god Nero is sleeping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dante is the responsible adult.


	16. The times they are a-changin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little boy has grown up.

Nero thought Dante was joking when he said that Patty was going to call to ask him out. However, after a hard day of work, his mobile rang and he answered to a very commanding voice.

“Are you free tonight?”

“I must wake up early tomorrow.”

“Then when are you free?”

Nero was used to lie, because that was the only way out from Credo’s sharp sight when he wanted to skip his daily duties at the Order – wiping the armors wasn’t really his thing. But in a split of time he thought that Patty went all the way to get his phone number because she wanted to meet with him, so he decided he would be sincere and told her what she wanted to know.

“It’s perfect, I only have school in the morning. Why don’t we have lunch together?”

That was how Nero went out with a girl who wasn’t Kyrie for the first time in his life. He reached her in front of a restaurant; she was waiting with her arms crossed and was glancing at the watch around her left wrist. She huffed when she noticed Nero.

“You are late.”

Nero remained calm at the small lecture, because she was younger. “I couldn’t find the place.”

He expected some sharp remarks, but Patty shrugged. “I guess it’s normal, you’ve never been outside your town. Dante told me.” She added at his puzzled look. Then Patty grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside. “Come on, I’m starving!”

Nero couldn’t stop thinking what Kyrie would say if he told her he accepted to go out with a girl. It wasn’t like Patty openly showed she had malicious intentions: she didn’t ogle at him, neither smirked, batted her eyelashes or do whatever Nero thought a girl would do to show a boy she was interested. Kyrie always smiled at him. Patty smiled too, but her smile wasn’t feeble and shy, she was self-confident and filled with energy.

“I always come here with my girlfriend.” Patty informed him when they sat down, and Nero felt the muscles of his body melting all the tension away. “They make good hamburgers. She eats lots of meat because she works out daily.” She sounded proud of her.

“Oh, is that so? It seems interesting.” Nero didn’t know what to add, so he grabbed the menu.

“Yes. She is stronger than all the boys in my class.”

“That’s cool.” Nero saw a finger on the top of his menu and didn’t oppose the little strength used to lower it.

Patty raised an eyebrow at him. “You aren’t used to talking with pretty girls, are you?”

It was true, but Nero denied. “No.” He just didn’t know how to keep a conversation, because he didn’t know if she would find what he could say boring or not.

Patty crossed her arms. “Figures. Do you know that conversation is the first step to start a friendship?”

“Hum…”

“Why don’t you tell me how’s the town you come from?”

“Fortuna? Well…” Was there a way to sugarcoat how he felt about that town? “It’s on the sea. I grew up there and hardly ever ventured outside.”

“I wonder how that could that be…”

Patty looked puzzled, and Nero wasn’t sure there was a way to tell her about the Order and the demons without omitting all the details. He started telling about the Order as a group of people who slayed demons, when Patty interrupted him with a “Oh yeah, Lady told me about those assholes who kept meddling with her hunting jobs.” which left Nero speechless.

Patty chuckled. “You can freely talk about demons with me. I ask Lady and Trish to tell me about it all the time. Dante–” At his name, she pouted. “–never does it. He’s a big jerk.”

“Well, I was part of the Order, and–”

“Excuse me. May I take your order already?”

Nero realized he hadn’t chosen anything yet and panicked.

“Don’t fret, take your time to read the menu.” Patty calmed him down. “I haven’t decided yet either.”

Nero resumed his story after the waiter wrote down their orders. He cut most part of the story and just said that, thanks to Dante, the Order and their crazy plans were stopped, and he could live a peaceful like with Kyrie.

“Your girlfriend?”

_ No, my sister. _ Nero had the reply on the tip of his tongue but held it back. “Yes. She is.”

“I guess you miss her a lot.”

“A bit.” It had been few days since the last he called. He mentally signed he had to call her as soon as he would be back. “But this job is worth lots of money. So she won’t work hard as much as she does now.”

“But for how long?” Patty took the glass filled with coke and drank a bit of it. “I mean, money isn’t endless and you said Fortuna isn’t doing well lately, right?”

“After the collapse of the Order, it’s been crumbling, yeah.” Both concretely and metaphorically.

“Then tell Kyrie to come here. There’s plenty of job for a devil hunter, and Dante is lazy anyway.”

“Lazy?”

“Yes, lazy. He doesn’t take all the jobs he should, so he was always broke before Vergil arrived.” She crossed her arms. “Vergil is a jackass, but at least he is serious when it comes to work.”

Nero chuckled. “Yeah, liking my father is quite the hard task.”

“But I like him.” Patty floored him. “I mean, not at first. He still lacks manners and acts like he owns them.” She huffed from her nose. “Then we talked a bit. He isn’t that bad, even if sometimes he gets on my nerves.”

“You like him even if he gets on your nerves?”

“It’s not like you completely get along with a person. Sometimes you argue, sometimes you don’t share the same opinions. But being friends or lovers also mean being able to talk it out and understand and accept the other point of view. If it isn’t something like beating people because their tastes are different from yours.”

It completely made sense. And yet, Nero couldn’t bring himself up thinking a scenario with him arguing or discussing with Kyrie. Or just Kyrie openly opposing to someone else. It didn’t look right in his head.

“Don’t tell me…” Patty raised an eyebrow. “…that Dante didn’t get on your nerves the first time you met him. That would be a first.”

Nero can’t help but laugh. “Pfff, he kept calling me _kid_ and I thought he wasn’t taking me seriously.”

“I know, right?! I thought he never wanted me around and invented all the excuses.” She crossed her arms, yet her expression softened. “But, if I look back, Dante has never tried to keep me away. This doesn’t mean he isn’t a lazy bum and doesn’t make me angry.”

“Since when do you know him?”

“We met more than ten years ago.”

“Wow…” Nero took his glass and drank some coke. “…I can’t figure Dante with kids, honestly.”

“Neither do I. He is an adult kid, after all.” Patty sighed. “By the way–” She clapped her hands together. “–do you have a photograph of your girlfriend? Hum, Kyria, isn’t it?”

“Kyrie.” Nero corrected her. “Yes, I think I have one.” He rustled in his wallet and took out quite an old picture they took some weeks before the disaster in Fortuna. “Ah wait, this is old.”

“Show me everything you have.”

Nero didn’t remember when it was the last time someone asked him to talk about his life – Vergil and Dante didn’t count, because, for how they still had a long way to go in their relationship, they were family, and in his head it was normal that family was interested. He gave Patty that photograph and then took out a more recent one, with Nico and the kids together with them.

“This was about five years ago.”

“Oh my god, you look like a knight from a videogame! What’s with this luscious uniform and embroidery? Your hair was so cute!”

“Cute?”

“This is Kyrie, isn’t it? She’s cute, but this dress is so lame… it doesn’t suit her.” Patty definitely didn’t mince words. “Who’s this grumpy man here?”

“Credo, our older brother.”

“Our?”

Nero wanted to take back his words. “Well, I was adopted.”

“I see.” Patty took the other photo. She glanced at it, then at Nero, then back at the photograph. “You really can’t stand in front of a camera. You are all rigid and are doing a weird face.”

She didn’t mind that, and it was a relief. Well, Nero had to expect it, since she knew about Dante and Vergil.

“I wasn’t born a model.”

Patty smiled. “Kyrie let her hair grow, it suits her. And this girl?”

“Nico. My partner in business.”

“What about Credo?”

“He died some years ago.”

“I’m sorry…”

Patty kept looking at the photograph. Nero didn’t know why she was wrinkling her nose and frowning her eyebrows. Maybe there was something in the composition of the photo she didn’t like, or there was something weird that was so normal for Nero that he didn’t notice. However, she gave the photograph back without saying anything more on it.

“Kyrie should definitely come here. She would enjoy it.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll tell her when I’ll be back. For now, she doesn’t want to leave the children.”

“Those children aren’t yours, right?”

“No, they are from the orphanage.”

“You adopted them?”

“Not really. The orphanage in Fortuna is having a hard time and some citizens take care of some children.” Actually, there weren’t so many people doing that, because it was Kyrie who started the idea but hardly anyone agreed to help.

“You are really kind.”

“It was Kyrie’s idea, not mine.” Nero’s smile looked like an apology.

They ate lunch, then Patty proposed to go to the mall: it was fresh and there were many shops to visit. Nero accepted, mostly because he didn’t have a clear idea of what they could do. Patty stopped at a dress shop and asked him if it was okay dropping by for a few minutes. Nero had no idea that a few minutes would turn into half an hour of him standing in front of the changing room to see Patty’s parade of dresses. Each one fit her, but she never seemed fully convinced.

“This one would be good if it wasn’t white…”

“What’s wrong with white?”

“I’m pale, so I can’t wear it unless I tan a bit. But I never tan, only get burnt…” She pouted.

Nero didn’t know how the fashion worked, so he just believed her. That dress design was simple and cute, with a light embroidery on the skirt. That would suit Kyrie, Nero thought. There weren’t many different designs in the few shops in Fortuna and each still suffered the influence of the Order: long skirts, long sleeves, a hood to cover the head, nothing to show but the hands. The hoods were luckily almost discarded, but the idea that women had to cover their bodies the best they could even in summer still was a heavy burden. Nico was a black sheep, and she enjoyed being glared and ogled at.

“Okay, now I guess we could go to the cinema, if you want!”

Nero always wanted to try a cinema, but going alone made him feel ashamed, and he had never had the chance to ask either Dante or Vergil.

“Why not? But my knowledge on movies isn’t that great.”

“Don’t worry, I have enough for both!”

Nero’s greatest fear was that he would be stuck in a dark place with pop corns and a corny movie about two people falling in love. He couldn’t imagine that action movies would be in her range of interest, but at least those two hours ended up being funnier than expected. Patty didn’t even flinch when one of the side characters was pushed into a huge helix and ended up being minced, spraying a red rain of blood on his comrades.

“How was it?”

“Quite cool.”

They sat on a bench to enjoy an ice cream.

“It was, wasn’t it? And the main character was so beautiful…” She sighed.

“Hey, don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate other people’s features. She always talks to me about gorgeous people at the gym.”

“And doesn’t that make you jealous?” Nero was perplexed.

“Sometimes, but a little jealousy never hurts. Moreover, I trust her and she trusts me.” Patty elegantly munched on the cone. “I have a girlfriend, but she isn’t all my life. We do separate things, and there are other people we care about.” She chuckled. “For example, I care about Dante. And you. But she doesn’t know you personally. Not yet at least.”

Nero scratched the back of his head. “It makes sense.” Most of his life, all the people he had around and trusted were Kyrie and Credo. Then Dante crashed into his little enclosed nest and Nero, who had always known there was a world out there, started being interesting in what was outside Fortuna. And who was outside.

“I think you are the first friend I made outside Fortuna.” He admitted.

“Ah, I thought Trish, Lady and Morrison were your friends.”

“Huh… I don’t really know. I mean, Lady and Trish always tease me, and Morrison is more like the one who gave me jobs when they are too far for Dante to reach…”

“Devil hunters are weird… you are an exception.”

Nero chuckled. “Well, thank you.” That ice cream was really good.

***

Time flies when you have fun. Nero heard those words often but had never realized the extents of their meaning until the day for him to go back to Fortuna arrived. He looked back at the month and a half he spent in behalf of the injured bodyguard and his mind suddenly reminded him there were many things he still wanted to do – and his days were all full of things to do, so he couldn’t really complain.

Patty was the main engine of his free time, and she brought him everywhere. However, more than once he dined out with Trish and Lady and listened the stories about their past. None of them ever referred to the events in Mallet Island and Temen-ni-gru, and Nero felt like it wasn’t just because they talked about silly things, but also for a kindness towards Dante and Vergil, considering how difficult those times were. To his surprise, he had the chance to drink at a pub with Morrison, and Nero drank so much that he didn’t remember anything after he picked a fight with a man who was harassing two women. Morrison reassured him: it was one of the funniest evenings he had ever had. Nero was afraid he might have killed someone or done a mess, but the police never knocked at his door.

When he looked at the train he had to take to go back to Fortuna, Nero realized his throat hurt and his feet were heavy to move. Dante didn’t feel like going out, so there were only Vergil and Patty (what a strange duo) to greet him. Nero kept his nose pressed against the window until the railway station disappeared.

The return trip was so fast that he closed his eyes to be lulled into a nap by the noise of the train and opened it one second later at his station. He had to hurry to get off, but walked slowly to reach the bus stop. He had one hour, so no chances of missing it, since the train arrived on time. The air conditioning on the bus was broken, so he reached Fortuna dripping in sweat, with his throat parched and his t-shirt wet on the back and around the armpits.

Kyrie was waiting for him. Her smile somehow reassured him.

“Nero!” She waved her arm at him.

“Kyrie. No hugs, I stink of sweat.”

Kyrie chuckled. “I don’t mind.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her forehead against his chest. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Something clicked into Nero’s head. Kyrie was wearing a long skirt and a t-shirt; her skin was fairly bronzed due to her playing under the sun with the children. Now he could see what Patty meant: that white dress he kept seeing on the mannequin at the mall would be perfect on her. “When I–”

“I have so many things to tell you!” She chirped going for a bag, but Nero took them all quite easily, so she just intertwined their arms together. “I know I’ve already revealed a bit on the phone, but it looks like that family I talked you about will adopt Carlo, Julio and Kyle together! Isn’t that great?”

“It is. They are used to being together now.”

“Yes. And we can help other kids from the orphanage.”

Helping other kids meant taking more in and rationing food carefully whenever there weren’t enough jobs for him. It didn’t look like such a great issue back then, but Nero found himself wondering if he really wanted to live their life like that, in an endless unbalanced cycle of children, until Fortuna flourished again or collapsed once for all. He didn’t say anything and nodded.

“Just don’t strain yourself too much, Kyrie. You could take some rest.”

“But we can’t make the children wait so long…”

Kyrie looked sad at the idea the children might be stuck in an environment which couldn’t provide them everything they needed. Nero could sympathize with them; it wasn’t fun being in the orphanage alone, without knowing if he would ever have a family. But it wasn’t like they actually adopted the kids.

“Are you tired?”

Kyrie’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts. “Just a bit.”

“Take a shower once at home, then you can rest until dinner is ready.”

“I think I will do it.”

Nico didn’t hug Nero. She was about to jump at his neck, but her cigarettes hadn’t ruined her sense of smell yet, so she made a grimace and backed up in time before touching him.

“Hey, you do smell like shit. Have they shipped you with a cargo animal?”

“It’s not like you smell better. Smoke stinks.”

“Still better than your _eau_ _de cologne_.” Nico pinched her nose and waved her hand towards Nero as to dispel his bad scent. “Get into the shower with all the clothes, would you?”

“It’s good to see you too, Nico.”

Nero felt better when the water run all over him. The sticky sweat and heat flowed into the drain, and he believed he could ignore the bed and spend some time downstairs. So he did, after getting dressed and rubbing the water away from his hair.

“I thought you would sleep?” Nico didn’t smoke inside, but she had the package ready in the pocket of her shorts. “Having nightmares?”

“No. I feel quite better after the shower.” He smelt the delicious flavor in the air. “Is Kyrie making soup?”

“For the children. They still won’t eat vegetables unless Kyrie minces and blend them. Tonight, we’ll have roasted meat for the other baby.” Nico chuckled at her own joke. “The other baby is you.”

“I didn’t understand, thank you.”

“Okay then.” Nico slapped her thigh. “Time to go back to work. I have some wonderful ideas. Don’t make too many sloppy noises with Kyrie, okay? I need concentration for this project.”

Nero raised his middle finger at her. He found Kyrie busy at preparing the soup, with the old apron to cover his old clothes and the hair tied in a bun. He hugged her from behind.

“I missed you.” Nero whispered at her ear.

Kyrie chuckled and turned around to kiss his cheek. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better. It’s fresh in here.”

“Because we keep all the windows open. There’s a nice breeze.”

There was hardly any breeze in the city. Nero spent some nights rolling into his bed with the windows wide open before giving up and using the air conditioning. He felt like he should tell Kyrie, but she was faster.

“I’ll cook steaks. Do you want French fries with them?”

“It would be great.”

Nero felt Kyrie shifting in his arms and he let her go away to take some herbs to put in the soup.

“By the way…” He started. “…Dante is doing fine.”

Kyrie probably still didn’t know about his condition. Nico didn’t ask anything, but Nero understood she figured out what was going on. He was grateful she didn’t tell a soul.

“Is he feeling better?”

“Much better.”

“I’m so glad! Maybe he could come back with your father when the weather is cooled down.” She was still focused on cooking. “By the way, I know it’s a bit early because you came back today, but it seems like the carpenter needs some help to carry the materials, and I thought you could do it. He said he will pay for it.”

Nero’s mind worked a bit. Even if the old man who he guarded for some weeks paid him dearly, money isn’t endless, so having an income was always welcomed. However, people in Fortuna learnt fast that Kyrie was too good to ask them more than they could give, and some hid that they could pay them rightfully.

“In food and clothes?” Still better than nothing.

“I think he’ll talk it out with you.”

All of a sudden, Nero didn’t want to help the carpenter. Not because he didn’t want money, even if for some time they could take a break with what he had just earnt, or he despised him, since he was one of the few decent people who didn’t frown upon him. Nero thought he was now obligated to help and he hadn’t even talked with him yet. Kyrie decided everything.

“I see.” He massaged his arm. “I hope not so soon. The last job was quite tiring and I hoped I could take one day off or two.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him.”

Nero took a chair and sat down. He could go help the carpenter carrying whatever he needed in that exact moment, he wasn’t tired, his words were meant to drive Kyrie asking him anything about the past weeks he spent in another city. But Kyrie didn’t. She cooked and talked about all the things she already told him at the phone. During dinner, Nico was the one who asked, and Nero felt happy.

“There are lots of shops and–”

“More than here. And they’re not destroyed like in Redgrave City.” She smirked. “I bet you were like a child in a candy shop.”

“I wasn’t!”

“And who chaperoned you? Dante?”

“Actually, most of the times it was Patty.”

Nico huffed. “Wow, we let you go outside and you find another girl.”

“She has a girlfriend already!” Nero frowned at Nico’s failed attempt to sound serious, when she was just teasing him. “But she’s cool. She says she’s Dante’s true partner in business.”

“Well, then I gotta meet with that chick as soon as possible.”

It was liberating finally telling them and the children everything he got to experience and do. When he talked about his job, he let the children down because nothing interesting happened, except him chasing away a bag-snatcher and his employee making him wear an elegant dress to a ball where many ladies wanted to dance with him.

“Thank god you can’t dance.”

“I can, just not to that music. And I wouldn’t dance with anyone.”

Nero glanced at Kyrie. She was smiling, but she said nothing, except trivial comments at his replies to Nico.

_ “It sounds fun.” _

_ “You were safe, that’s good.” _

_ “That’s nice.” _

When bedtime arrived, the children complained, because they wanted to hear more stories from Nero, but Kyrie wasn’t moved and sent them to their room with Nico to tuck them.

“Nero, if you want to sleep–”

“No.” He took a rag. “I’ll help.”

Nero took the plates Kyrie washed and dried them, then formed a pile and put them back.

“It was a bit lonely without you…” Kyrie admitted out of the blue. “You know, the children are spending more time at the orphanage for the meetings with their new parents, and Nico is always locked in her workshop so she can sell her instruments and enrich the incomes.”

“I see. You should come with me.” Nero threw that casually.

“Should come?”

“I think I will go back for a couple of days in a month, more or less.”

Kyrie closed the tap of the sink. “Why? Another job?”

Nero could easily lie to her, only to face the truth later. Unless he found another lie to explain a kid who probably would look a lot like him and Dante and Vergil stuck with it.

“Actually, you know that Dante’s a half demon, right?”

“Yes, he is the son of Sparda.” It seemed like Kyrie’s voice always cracked when she said that name. “But I don’t understand–”

“Well, he is pregnant.”

There was no way he could sugarcoat it, so Nero just dropped the bomb. There was a glint of surprise which made Kyrie’s eyes widen, but she found again her calm easily.

“Oh… I didn’t know that he could…”

“Yeah, neither did I. It was a bit of a shock.”

She opened the tap again. “So you’ll go there to help?”

“I want to see my s–” The word sibling was about to escape from his mouth, but Nero corrected himself in time. “–cousin.” It was too early to her or Nico that the baby would be his sibling and cousin because the father was Vergil.

“It’s nice.”

“Why don’t you come? Public transport is a pain in the ass. We might go with the van, and–”

“But I must watch over the children.” Kyrie’s voice snapped, maybe for the first time since Nero knew her. She resembled a lot Credo now that her eyes were scowling at the glasses she was rubbing with the sponge. “You know I can’t leave them.”

“You won’t leave them.” Nero replied with a calm he didn’t know he possessed. “Nico may take care of them for some days, she is responsible, even if she doesn’t look like it. And there are all the people we’ve been helping that–”

“Nero, we don’t help them to have favors in return.” She sounded like a mother scolding her child. “We do it because we are all experiencing difficult times and it’s the right thing to do.”

“And who helped us?”

Kyrie didn’t expect Nero to sound so harsh in his reply, so she raised her head from the sink and looked at him. He wasn’t angry, but his expression showed all his determination.

“Who helped us when we didn’t have a place left to go? We had to take one of the least damaged houses and I repaired it on my own using the debris of the town. Some of them still believe it’s my fault the Order did what they did.”

Kyrie looked pained. She shook her head. “You must understand–”

“I’m done understanding people who keep throwing shit on us!”

Nero had never raised his voice with Kyrie, nor he found any fault in her reasoning: she was kind and gentle, so she wanted to help people because of her fair spirit and didn’t expect anything in return. However, he wasn’t her.

“You help those assholes and live secluded here counting the apples to be sure no one is starving. This isn’t life.”

Kyrie looked shocked. “Nero, this is the life I have chosen!”

“I know…” Nero sighed. “…but maybe it’s not the life I have chosen. Or the one I would choose now that I know how it could be outside.”

The heavy grip of silence clenched them. They heard the boys chuckling above their heads as Nico lazily told them to just close their eyes and sleep, meaning they weren’t aware of what was happening.

“That girl, Patty–”

“She has a girlfriend already.” Nero stated. “Do you really think I would be capable of betraying you?”

“No! But you talked about living elsewhere and then went away for more than one month! And when you come back you talk about this girl! What should I think?”

“That maybe I tried this path to give us a better life and I actually like it?”

Kyrie was trembling, maybe she was on the verge of the tears and she was able to endure it, or maybe it was just Nero’s imagination which had always seen her as an extremely gentle girl. She didn’t cry, but sat on a chair as if her legs weren’t able to keep her standing anymore due to the excessive shock. Her hands were softly leaning on her lap and she was looking at them.

“What’s wrong with Fortuna? Why don’t you want to stay here?”

Nero didn’t know if he should tell her about all those _kind_ people they helped who still whispered at their backs saying how much of a saint girl Kyrie was for keeping the burden of such a scoundrel ex soldier on her delicate shoulders. He wanted to believe she knew about those rumors but didn’t mind them because she knew Nero wasn’t a burden, yet he wasn’t so sure anymore. Or maybe he should just remind her that everyone in town passed by to ask for her assistance and hardly anyone paid her, even when she took on difficult long jobs. When they did, they paid with scarce food or raggedy clothes which sometimes she refused out of her benevolence. Her community spirit was her real burden, together with the assholes in Fortuna who took advantage of this beautiful flaw.

“This town is draining us out.”

“No, it isn’t.” Kyrie looked at him with hurt eyes. “You enjoyed fighting demons since when you entered the Order. Do you want to hunt them more because around here they don’t appear often? With Dante and your father?”

A dark thought crawled along Nero’s spine and stuck at his brain. “No. I would do any job outside here to make a living for us. But yes, I do love fighting demons. I don’t know if it’s because of my demon blood or not, and I don’t care.” He didn’t want to make the conversation end with the gloomy suspicion that Kyrie was afraid his demon blood now awakened was turning him into a blood-thirsty beast. “Kyrie, do you want to come with me and try for a little while? If it doesn’t work, we can go back. But unless we try, we won’t know if we could live better, without constantly counting everything every day so that nobody would go to bed starving.”

Kyrie’s sad smile hurt Nero more than anything else she could do. “No, Nero. I just can’t leave this place, do you understand?” She rubbed her eyes gently with her sleeve. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“…we can go together. And we have somewhere to come back to.”

Kyrie shook her head. “Nero, I just can’t leave my home.” Nero knew there was no way to make her change her mind. “But please…” She pleaded. “…don’t leave. This is your home too, after all.”

He would remember for a long time the bittersweet feeling that pierced his guts in the moment those words shattered upon him like cold heavy rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, Patty and Vergil went shopping together after the train left.


	17. Don't cry over spilt milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Fluffle spilts his milk.

Nero felt like he lost somehow. After about three weeks, he gave up and decided he couldn’t suffer anymore the charity of all the people in Fortuna who hired him out of pity for Kyrie and underpaid his efforts. They still had enough money to take a breath for one or two months, but Nero didn’t want to survive. He wanted to live.

“I will send half of the money here every month, so you can keep raising children without cutting food from your plate.” When he told that to Kyrie, he was sure his voice came out as a reprimand. In his mind, if she wanted to keep helping the children, they had to compromise; but it seemed like Kyrie wanted both him and the children. Nero would rather spend months away from his other family to allow them having a decent life than seeing Kyrie sew her old clothes for the umpteenth time or trim her hair in the bathroom so she could help more orphans.

Kyrie was sad and scared, but she didn’t stop him. She wanted Nero to remain there, she wanted to find a way to live comfortably in Fortuna once again, but the solution either didn’t exist or was too far to reach for a hot-head like him. Nico commented that he resisted too much for their own good; then, she added she would take care of Kyrie and make sure the assholes there wouldn’t exploit her now that he wasn’t around. Nero trusted her, so he left less worried than expected.

But it was true indeed that for a devil hunter like him, there were more jobs away from Fortuna.

“Last one.”

Nero turned around and the corpse of a demon landed at his feet, still frizzing and smelling like burnt meat.

“You fried it to death.”

Trish smiled. “At each their own style.” She shook her head, making her long hair wave along her back. It looked like she had just walked out from the hairdresser instead of from a brawl with demons. “And yours is very similar to Dante. I noticed it back in Fortuna, but now it’s become more evident.”

“Ah, really?” Nero couldn’t help but feel happy that his fighting style reminded her of Dante; in his head, it meant he was strong.

“Yes. But you listen to what I say. I don’t know if you do this because I’m your senior or because you are still embarrassed around beautiful women–”

“Hey!”

“–but should another collaboration come up, I wouldn’t refuse it. Up for a drink before we go back?”

Trish was a weird companion. She looked like his grandmother, but Nero had never met her, so, in his eyes, she was one of Dante’s friends – and the one who disguised at Gloria and didn’t fail to fluster him. She was born a demon, but blended perfectly into the society, more than Nero felt he could ever do.

“The trick is observing. Like in a hunt.” Nero didn’t understand when she said it.

Despite they had little history together, Nero felt at ease with Trish. Maybe because she was the quiet type and tended to mind her own business unless strictly necessary, and didn’t storm him with countless questions about his private life like Lady loved to do. However, the downside was a prolonged silence in front of their iced teas, because Nero wasn’t a chatter.

“You are like Dante.” She commented distracting Nero who was exchanging a very interesting look with a dog.

“Yeah, I fight like him. You’ve said it already.”

“I meant you aren’t the chatter like him.”

“What? Are you talking about the same Dante?”

“Oh, he gives that impression, doesn’t he? Always ready to talk, never shuts up… but he usually never talks first. I admit that if you press the right buttons, he doesn’t stop that easily, especially if he must show off.” Trish nods at Nero’s attempt to talk his mind. “However, he isn’t the chatty person.”

“I don’t talk much with people, so I guess my judgment might be biased.”

Trish smiled at him. “You look like you have lots going on in your mind lately.”

“Well, Dante is due at any moment, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

When Nero returned to the Devil May Cry, he noticed that in three weeks, Dante’s belly acquired the classic roundness of pregnant women, his chest looked bigger and softer, and he ate more than him and Vergil. Luckily, he lost the sense of guilty for eating too much somewhere, and all he did was always looking for anything to devour. The day Nero knocked again at the door, Dante opened it and, after a sudden confusion, he asked him if he had brought some ice cream, without even greeting or asking him why he was there.

Except his nocturnal craves of pizza or hamburgers, sometimes together, Dante looked filled with energies more than before. Somehow, even Vergil hadn’t changed his attitude; Nero expected him to be more impatient, as the day was getting close, but maybe he just failed to see the signals.

“I know, right? It still doesn’t seem true.” Trish stopped the waiter and asked for a slice of cake. “When I met you back in Fortuna, I wondered what anchored such a rebellious boy to that place.”

“You did?”

“I bet I’m not the only one who did. Many in the Order questioned Credo keeping you among the knights.”

“No big news.”

The reason was simple, and yet everyone failed to acknowledge it because they considered him a heartless punk. He loved his family and didn’t want to be apart from Credo and Kyrie. He thought more than once that his life would be easier somewhere which wasn’t Fortuna, but he wanted to be at their side, no matter what. At least, that was what his younger self thought.

“I guess it’s surprising having me here, huh?” He joked.

“Lady was surprised, I wasn’t that much.”

Nero frowned at Trish. “Oh, really?”

“Well, she was surprised Kyrie wasn’t with you. She loves this kind of gossips; I didn’t think much about it until you showed up again one week ago.”

“So you talk about me?”

“Not only about you. We are quite sure Morrison is seeing someone, but he is good at keeping it secret. And Vergil enjoys a soap opera that he pretends he is forced to watch with Patty. He likes listening to Patty’s gossips as well.”

Nero didn’t know how he was feeling. He was used at people talking behind his back and, even if he didn’t want to think about it, definitely his name popped out from time to time in the conversations among people he knew. Lady, Trish, Dante, Vergil, Patty… and yet, he wasn’t so disturbed as he thought he would be. Maybe because they didn’t think ill of him. Or because Trish was clearly admitting her sins under the sunlight.

“Vergil enjoys–?” Nero shook his head. “What do you say about me?”

“Lady wondered why Kyrie didn’t come. She will probably ask you in the next days, be prepared.”

“Ah, thank you?” Wait, it wasn’t time to be grateful. “And what did you tell her?” He asked again.

“That any couple has problems they might want to solve themselves. And being in need of money isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Nero tilted the glass, and the ice cubes tingled against the surface. He did it again, enjoying the crystal-clear sound as they collided with the glass.

“Actually, I like hunting demons. This is the job I love doing the most, no matter where I am.” Nero admitted. “I would stay in Fortuna all the time, if demons showed up on a daily basis. And people paid me for kicking their ass, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But I wonder if I did it for the money or just because I enjoy the hunt.” Nero huffed a half laugh to cushion the guilt which boiled inside him whenever he thought about what Kyrie hinted about his nature. “I mean, Nico is slowly receiving more commissions from other hunters, and maybe I just–”

“You are gaining more money while doing the job you like. Not many boys of your age can do that.”

Nero frowned at being referred as a boy. He was a man now, but he let it slide because probably Trish was much older than him and she saw him almost as a kid.

“But I had to leave everyone behind.”

“What’s the problem?” Trish shrugged at Nero’s puzzled look. “It’s normal within humans that one member of the family stays abroad to work for weeks or months. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a job near their homes. Sometimes, I have to travel far away too.”

“But you go back eventually.”

“And you won’t?” His eyes wandering all over the wall to inspect the boring three photographs was enough as an evidence of his sense of guilt. “It depends on what you think about when you think of going back.” Trish wasn’t satisfied of the bland nod. “So, you two don’t have sex anymore?”

Nero almost spat the tea, but he managed to swallow it down without chocking on it. “W-what?”

“Ah, maybe you don’t base your relationship on sex.” She was enjoying the show of various shades of embarrassment passing clearly on Nero’s face, which was turning red like Trish had never seen on him. “Even if you are so attractive that probably many other girls have–”

“Nobody has!” Nero blurted out without knowing what he should do to calm himself down. Once, Patty made him notice that some girls were ogling him, but he didn’t notice because he was so used at people throwing curious glances at the _Order punk with white hair_ , that he had started ignoring anyone looking at him even when he wasn’t in Fortuna. He inspected Trish’s amused smiled and pouted. “You are kidding me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it fun?”

“You can’t imagine how much it is.”

Her little laugh soothed his agitated spirit a bit. “You really do like mocking me.”

“Just a little. Because you are honest with your emotions.” Trish sank the fork into her slice of cake. “Have you broken up with her?” Her voice lost the amused vibration from before; it sounded more serious.

Nero glanced down at his half-empty glass. “No. Not yet. I don’t know. Things aren’t like before.” He massaged his head. “Everything looks different in Fortuna. Even Kyrie… but maybe it’s because I might have changed.”

“You sure have. You aren’t anymore the scrawny boy Dante enjoyed bothering during the mission. I have to confess something…” Trish smiled. “…I didn’t have the slightest trust in you when Dante said he would leave the Savior to you. And I was right. You were tricked pretty easily.”

Nero frowned at her with a small grunt.

“But now you are different. You have seen and experienced things that made you grow apart from the boy you were.” She still read some doubts in his eyes. “Let me tell you one thing, as your senior fellow hunter. People grow up and change; it isn’t unusual that a couple breaks up because they turn into different people than before. Breaking up with someone, no matter for how long you’ve been together, may be painful, but it’s not the end of the world.”

Nero stared at her. “…you know a lot for being a demon. No offense.” He meant it.

“Observation skills are essential when you are a demon trying to blend in the human world.” Trish pointed the fork at him. “See?”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t have told me anything, hadn’t I talked first. Just like Dante.”

Nero looked confused.

“So…” Trish took another mouthful. “…for the sake of my ears when Lady will know we worked together, how is your sexual life going?”

Nero’s prudish side exploded again, and his ears turned red in an instant. “I won’t tell you that!”

***

“Nero, do you eat that?”

Dante was already tending his arm to the sandwich Nero left unattended during the twenty seconds he went taking some water, but came back in time to slap his hand away.

“Yes!”

“But it’s dinner time and you go out with Patty already. It’ll ruin your appetite.”

“It won’t. We’ll have dinner in two hours, and I’m hungry already.” Nero munched on his sandwich to point out Dante wouldn’t have his snack. “It would spoil your appetite, you are going to have dinner soon.”

Nero’s stomach reacted at the delicious smell coming from the oven.

“But we are hungry.”

Sometimes Dante talked using the plural, especially when he was tired or he craved food. Lady joked that the baby was taking his pea brain over and talked through his mouth. Dante told Nero that it was simply the truth: he felt when the baby was hungry and, by reflex, he was hungry himself. Same went for when he leaned in bed right after lunch and slept for three hours straight without moving of an inch.

“Do you think the baby is coming out soon?”

Dante stopped taking out food to put in the sandwich to shrug, then he went back to his task. “No idea, we don’t talk much.”

“Yeah, sure.” Nero frowned. “Do you want to put some bread too in that sandwich?” He didn’t pay much attention, so he couldn’t tell what kind of food was hidden in the layers.

“Yes, one slice down, one slice on the top. Don’t tell Vergil.”

“Why?”

“What shouldn’t he tell me?”

Dante casually leaned against the table so that he covered the plate with the sandwich from Vergil’s sight. “I have a little headache.”

Vergil hummed. “I see.” He walked past Dante and grabbed the plate.

“Oh, come on! I can eat that!”

“Yes, I do believe it.” Vergil inspected it with the same disgust he would show in touching some body fluid that should never come out. “Is that chocolate on the pickles?”

“So what?”

Nero slowly spat back on the plate the mouthful of his own sandwich, his stomach clenched all of a sudden and he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Dante, you can’t put chocolate on pickles.” Vergil reprimanded him. “And who knows what else is in here.”

“I’ve just done it.”

He sighed. “Dinner is almost ready. Go wash your hands. I’m going to get rid of this…” There was a long pause. “…abomination. I’ll throw it in Hell.”

Nero wasn’t sure to what extent Vergil was joking. “Can’t you just put it in a plastic bag and trash it?”

“Do you want to eat with us?”

“I have dinner with Patty in two hours.” He glanced at the oven, and his stomach reminded him that he was truly hungry. “…just a little portion.”

The little portion became two portions, but Nero had enough self-control to refuse the dessert. He still had room for some food, so he got prepared and went out.

“Don’t do anything dangerous, okay?” He implied that Vergil should be careful to keep Dante away from whatever could be transformed into a culinary horror. “Goodnight.”

“Do you have the keys?” Vergil was examining him to see if he had everything. “Wallet?”

“I have everything with me, Vergil.” It was a bit embarrassing that he treated him like a little kid. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Patty is with me.” Whenever he added that, Vergil seemed to be a bit more relaxed and let him go. Even if he was older than her. “I’m going.”

“Yes.”

“See you later, Dante.”

Dante was lazily leaning on the sofa and nibbling on biscuits while watching the tv. He raised one arm and waved the hand. “Have fun.” He glanced at the door closing and waited for Vergil to approach the sofa and wait him sitting down. “You could ask.” But Dante propped himself on the elbows and sat down. “What’s the matter, Vergil?”

“What matter?”

Vergil could feign ignorance, but Dante recognized the small wrinkles at the top of his nose and the long ones frowning his forehead.

“Nero will call you daddy sooner or later. Have patience.”

“I don’t care how he calls me.” But Vergil turned his head to the television and betrayed his true emotions.

Dante scoffed. “Some habits are hard to die.” He left the biscuits pack on the sofa and put both hands at his sides to push him to stand up. It was something he started doing few weeks ago, Vergil noticed.

“Where are you going? The movie is going to begin.”

“We’ve seen it already.”

“There’s nothing else tonight.”

Dante adjusted his shorts and covered the right butt cheek. The loose neckline of the t-shirt showed his collarbone; his belly grew enough that it through the cloth, shaped in a perfect sphere. Dante massaged it in circles with one hand, another habit he wasn’t aware he acquired, but Vergil spotted almost immediately.

“Are you going to sleep?”

“I don’t know…” He adjusted the bun on his head. “…I could. Even if Nero isn’t home, so we don’t have to worry about making too much noise.”

He didn’t mean to be subtle with his intentions. Vergil turned the television off and followed him to the bedroom.

“Have you closed the front door?”

Dante’s belly grew so much that whenever Vergil wanted to hug him, he had to approach him from the side or from behind. He put an arm around his shoulders and the other on his chest. “I have.” He kissed his neck. “I forgot to do it only once.”

“And it was more than enough.”

“As if you didn’t enjoy it.”

Vergil let Dante take his shirt off, but he grabbed it from his hands to fold it.

“You almost ruined the mood.”

“Really?”

Dante kissed him in the middle of the chest. “I said almost.” His fingers brushed lightly Vergil’s nipples; Dante poked one with his index before taking it into his mouth. He felt Vergil’s fingertips rubbing his head, and it made him smile.

“Hey big brother…” Dante unbuttoned his trousers with one hand. “…let’s do _that_ again.” His hand slipped inside his underwear, and the contact with his warm groin caused a surge of heat between his legs.

“That?” Vergil looked confused, but as he understood what Dante meant, he huffed. “Dante, it might be too much right now.”

“Don’t treat me as if I’m made of paper. I knocked out that demon barehanded last month.”

Knocked out wasn’t the verb Vergil would use to describe how Dante handled the situation. Sometimes, lesser demons thought they were better than anyone and assaulted humans during daytime, when it was easier for hunters to slay them. One of them, sniffed Dante out, probably lured in by the pregnancy hormones. He definitely thought Dante was harmless, and aimed at the glory of hunting down one of the sons of Sparda.

Dante was too fast for Vergil to react, he didn’t even summon his devil sword. He grabbed the demon’s head and twisted it of 360 degrees before snatching it from the body. The moment Vergil heard the snap of the bones breaking, he turned around and caught a glimpse of his brother’s eyes filled with bloodlust. Dante’s tongue slipped along his lips stretched in a satisfied smirk, and Vergil wished to be knelt in front of him in that exact moment. Right after they went back to the office, Vergil fucked Dante on the desk.

Vergil wanted to talk back, but there wasn’t much he could say to make Dante change his mind. He kissed him on the lips and inhaled the strong flavor his little brother was now emanating: it seemed like Dante was making sure to communicate with every inch of his body that he wanted to have sex to exhaustion. His flavor flipped upside down Vergil’s hormones, making his brain unable to elaborate any complex thought.

“Okay.” Vergil grabbed him by his shoulders and slowly leaned him on the bed. “First, I must prepare you.”

“I have two holes down there.” Dante raised his hips, and Vergil took his shorts off.

“But you know which one I prefer. You aren’t wearing any underwear.”

“I didn’t need it tonight anyway.”

“Silly brother.”

Dante loved having Vergil between his legs. He enjoyed when he took his time to explore his weak spots, ignore his groin and tickle all the skin around it in a slow spiral to the longed pleasure. However, Vergil barely kissed his inner thigh that Dante felt the blood rushing already between his legs, and a needy whine escaped his lips.

“Vergil.” He pulled his hair. “Come on, lick me now.”

Vergil raised his eyes, glimmering of a malevolent light. If Dante wanted to be pleased so bad, he had to earn it. Or at least, that was what he thought before Dante ogled at him with eyes blurred in lust. Damn it, he was too weak when he came to his little brother; he had to be a bit tougher and don’t spoil him too much. And yet, Vergil didn’t hesitate to spread his labia with the fingers and suck Dante right inside where he loved it the most.

“Nngh…” Dante arched his back and his grip on Vergil’s hair became stronger. “Put your tongue in.” He panted. “Yes!”

But he barely felt the tongue sliding in, because Vergil rubbed his thumb against his clit, and Dante lost his focus. He felt good between his legs, on his chest, on his lips. Vergil had summoned few tendrils and Dante barely caught sight of them as they slithered against his entire body like curious snakes. Some poked in a frenzy against his pussy, following the trail of Vergil’s tongue; such a massage brought Dante to the orgasm quickly.

“Mh… you almost plucked my hair out.” Vergil cleaned his lips. He smirked at Dante. “That was fast–”

He barely managed to finish talking and found himself slammed against the bed with Dante pulling his trousers to the knees.

“Let’s do _that_ , Vergil…”

Dante almost pleaded him, and his voice creaked a bit as he sat on Vergil’s hard dick. His body was still wet from the orgasm, and the erection slid inside him so easily that Dante gasped in surprise at being filled so suddenly. He opened his mouth and gulped in air in a poor attempt to calm down the tremble of his body.

“Dante.” Vergil swallowed some saliva; he was clinging to all his self-control to not slam inside Dante right away and make his pussy throb around his dick. “If I do it know, I might have a hard time stopping later.” His breath faltered as Dante moved his hips, and Vergil was afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep enough concentration to satisfy his brother’s request.

“Please, Vergil.”

Dante used to do the puppy eyes when they were children, and always won because of that skill Vergil had never been able to master. It was unfair that he was still able to use it at that age and during sex.

“If you insist…”

A feeble blue light flickered behind Dante before scattering to draw a humanoid shape. It materialized into a translucent copy of Vergil’s sin devil trigger; the clawed hands around Dante’s arms to pull them back and the long tail wrapped around his waist and shoulders.

Vergil felt his hard and coarse dick pushing against his to enter inside Dante’s body. It was supposed to be too cramped for both, and yet, Dante’s insides stretched to accommodate them, and Vergil enjoyed the show of his brother losing his mind under that forced intrusion. He cleaned the thin thread of drool dripping from Dante’s lips and observed his eyes rolling up, and his entire body twitching.

“You’re leaking from here too.” Vergil propped on his elbows to squish the plump chest and make more milk drops dripping from the right nipple. He licked it away and nibbled on both nipples, loving how his fingers sunk into his soft boobs.

His doppelganger was moving in and out, satisfying both the twins. Vergil didn’t enjoy the scales scratching on his dick as much as Dante was crying out his pleasure of being filled with two cocks and ravished but being able to witness his little brother submitting to him like that was worth it.

“Have you come, Dante?”

Vergil wasn’t sure. He felt his pussy clamping some more before relaxing, but Dante wasn’t calming down and he kept moving his hips with sloppy movements.

“Y-yes…” Dante groaned. “Yes, I have. Please…” His voice went directly to Vergil’s groin, and he felt a wave of heat exploding between his legs. “…please, one more. Vergil.”

The way Dante sobbed his name, almost holding his trembling breath, struck Vergil hard enough for him to snap and come. Vergil clenched his jaw, unsatisfied that he didn’t get to be stimulated as he liked to, but waited for his orgasm to be consumed until the last twitch of his stomach. He finally let go of the doppelganger; it faded in thin air.

“Shit…”

Dante put a hand on the bed and swayed. Vergil grabbed him to let him gently lean on his side as he got out of him. “We must take a shower.”

“One more round, Vergil.” Dante chortled, his eyes visibly humid.

“Shower.”

“Oh, come on, Verg.” Vergil tried to help him to turn around. Dante pressed his back against his chest and chuckled. “It’s easier like this, huh?” He raised one leg. “A little help?”

Vergil sighed. “You are too spoiled, Dante.” He grabbed his thigh and kept his legs spread.

“And who’s the one spoiling me?”

His laugh turned into a delighted moan as Vergil thrusted inside him.

***

Dante sometimes missed sitting at his chair and waiting for the clients. Now his belly acquired a round shape that was almost impossible not to associate with a pregnant woman, and Dante himself, sometime in the middle of the summer, decided that it was better if it was Vergil in the front office. Hardly anyone would trust a handyman and devil hunter with a bloated belly. When he had the chance, mostly when the office was closed, Dante sat on his chair and read his magazines or comics – he couldn’t raise the legs on the desk anymore, unless he cradled the chair, which he would do, but last time he tried, Vergil almost had an heart attack and scolded him for an entire hour.

“I love weekends.” Weekends meant no official jobs, and no official jobs meant that he could slack off around the office like he used to do before he looked like a pregnant woman. “Don’t you, Mr. Fluffle?”

Mr. Fluffle was enjoying the scratched behind his ears while dozing off curled on Dante’s legs.

“I’m sure you do, you little lazy bum.” Even if he called him lazy bum, Mr. Fluffle had been bringing in daily rats and birds for one month. He kept himself busy with the hunt, apparently. “Do you want some milk?”

Dante wanted some, better if with chocolate. “Hey, Nero!” He raised his voice and called him again. Nero went downstairs.

“Yes, I know I must go buy groceries.”

“First give us some milk. Chocolate for me, thanks.”

Nero grunted. “You could get up and take it.”

“I would disturb Mr. Fluffle. He is resting.”

“He’s stuck on you since this morning. Or are you just using him so you won’t do anything?”

Dante chuckled. “That insinuation hurt my feelings. You know we are tired and in need of energy.”

Nero prepared a small bowl of milk for Mr. Fluffle and a glass of chocolate milk for Dante.

“Here.”

“No biscuits?”

“Vergil finished them this morning.”

“Sign them on the list.”

Nero took the list out from the pocket of his trousers. “Write down if you want something, I’ve forgotten the sunglasses.” He climbed the stairs two steps at time and was back right when Dante clicked on the pen.

“List is ready.”

“You wrote flour for pizza, tomato sauce for pizza…”

“Just to make sure we have enough flour for pizza and flour for whatever you two want to bake.”

Nero rolled his eyes before wearing the sunglasses. “Don’t do anything while I’m away.”

“It’s not the first time you and Vergil aren’t around. And I’m not alone.” He pointed at Mr. Fluffle, who was pawing at his milk without drinking it. “If you spill the milk, I’m going to tie the mop to your ass and make you clean.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Be careful out there.”

“I’m always careful, Dante.”

Dante didn’t have time to reply, because Nero was closing the door already. “…he forgot the bags.” He dismissed the problem with a shrug. He wanted to go buy groceries, mostly because he hardly got out lately, but Vergil and Nero teamed up in making him stay at home and rest. Dante didn’t feel the need of sitting somewhere for hours, like he had done for years when the only fuel to his life was killing demons. But there he was, sitting on his chair with Mr. Fluffle dangerously close to spill the milk.

“Mr. Fluffle, if you–” With a single last paw, Mr. Fluffle knocked the bowl over. “–you did it.”

He proudly stuck his chest out and looked at Dante.

“Do you think this is funny?” Mr. Fluffle followed his steps to the kitchen, where he took a rag and some kitchen paper, and back to the crime scene. “So you are making sure I clean your mess, little asshole.”

Dante knelt, and Mr. Fluffle took the chance to rub himself against his arm. “You should rub the floor.” He carefully pushed him away, just in case he believed that rolling his white fur in the white milk was a good idea: cleaning the floor was better than cleaning the cat.

“Hey no. Bring the rag here.” Mr. Fluffle clamped his teeth on the rag and dragged it out of the range of Dante’s arms, leaving it nearby the sofa. “You don’t want me to go there, do you? Ah, yes, of course you want.”

The cat let the rag go. Dante got on all fours to reach him; he straightened his back with a groan. “Mh, I’m too old and this baby weighs too much. He’s gonna be two years old already when he’ll be born.” Mr. Fluffle rubbed himself against his thighs and meowed. “What’s wrong with you today?” Dante caressed his head. “Yes, yes. I clean your mess and then we play.”

Instead of standing up on his own, Dante propped himself using the sofa and laughed at himself: his colleagues should watch now the legendary devil hunter who couldn’t even stand on his legs without clinging on to something.

“Shit…” He huffed. “…I didn’t remember that standing up was so tiresome. I call dibs on the sofa.” Mr. Fluffle tilted his head and meowed. “Yes, you can sleep on me.”

Dante walked back to the stain near the desk, unwilling to bend again to clean. Every fiber of his body was telling him all of a sudden that lying down on the sofa was a good idea. The bed was out of question, because the thought of climbing all those stairs, an easy task until that morning, sounded too tiresome.

“Maybe I can wait for Nero to come back.” He joked, without knowing that Nero would be the one cleaning the milk.

His eyes went from the empty bowl to the little white lake decorating the floor. There were some red spots drifting in a more pinkish color. Blood. Dante looked back to Mr. Fluffle, but he turned around too fast and his head spun to the point he had to grab the edge of the desk and wait few seconds to recover. The chocolate milk climbed back from his stomach, too fast for him to even think he had to reach at least the sink, and he vomited it right on the spilt white milk. The brown erased any visible trace of blood.

“Shit…” His mouth tasted bitter. “…where are you hurt?”

Mr. Fluffle was at his side and wasn’t stopping his meows. Dante didn’t see any injury on him. Then, he felt something leaking down his thighs. He looked down between his legs.

“…damn.”

It was his blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trish asked the real shit.


	18. Call me by my name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strippers have babies too.

Nero grumbled during the entire walk back home because he forgot the bags. He had to pay for the fragile plastic bags which scarred his fingers with deep red signs; those wouldn’t last, but he didn’t like the sensation of the thin handles sinking in his flesh.

Finally at the office, he rang the bell, but nobody came. “Dante!” He tried again, before putting the bags down and opening the door himself. Probably Dante was sleeping again somewhere, and Nero expected to find him on the sofa with Mr. Fluffle using him as a huge pillow. Instead, he was welcomed by a whiff of rancid smell which made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. He left the bags on the floor.

“What the–” He located almost immediately the brown stain near the desk, and his mind connected the dots quite fast. “Dante!” Nero coughed. Another strong scent tingled his nose; it felt familiar, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it could be until he saw some red stains on the stairs.

Without thinking twice, Nero run upstairs. “Dante!” He opened the doors one by one, finding both bedrooms empty, until he reached the bathroom. The door slammed, letting out the suffocating metallic smell of blood trapped in there.

Dante was in the bathtub. The white porcelain was stained. Nero could only see the back of his head and Mr. Fluffle perched in front of him with his tail moving from side to side, his blue eyes staring intensely at Dante. Somewhere, he read that in some countries cats helped the souls of dying people trespassing peacefully and lead them to the underworld. Mr. Fluffle had been following Dante since that morning, sticking to his side as Nero had never seen him do before; he didn’t even went nearby Nero to receive some cuddles when Dante ignored him while talking to Vergil, as the cat always did when he didn’t manage to get Dante’s attention. Nero hated his mind for bringing him all that information he didn’t want.

“Dante!”

Dante didn’t reply. Nero dashed with his heart pulsating in his throat. It was a pool of blood. Dante’s blood. All the blood between his legs and on his body, it was Dante’s. Dante could survive that, but why wasn’t he moving, nor looking at him, nor answering? Nero grabbed his head to stop the vicious thought that was slithering towards his conscience. He didn’t want to hear its malevolent whisper. His throat hurt like crazy, and he couldn’t see anymore through the veil of tears on his eyes.

“…Nero.”

His name, whispered in a weak voice, pierced through the loud whistles that corked his ears. Nero rubbed his eyes and looked down at Dante, who was smiling at him. He looked like shit, but he was alive.

“Dante…” He exhaled. “…what the fuck? Dante.”

“You look like you’ve run from the supermarket.” Dante chuckled without putting much energy in it. “Breathe. I’m fine.”

“You have some nerves to say it when you are bathing in your own blood.”

Nero knew everything was going to be alright, because Dante told him so. Now that his heart stopped beating on the brim of explosion, he could clearly see that the blood was less than his imagination projected and that Dante was holding in his arms a bloody chunk of meat with arms, legs, and a small lock of hair drenched in red.

“He is still eating.” Dante explained.

“…he’s tiny.”

“Isn’t he?”

The loud sound hissing in his ears disappeared, and Nero could hear the sloppy little sounds of the baby drinking milk from Dante; his tiny hand was clamping on the soft boob, the head resting on Dante’s arm.

“Hey, Dante…” Nero hesitated. “…I think the baby is a girl.” He didn’t know how much that comment was appropriate; yet, he couldn’t help but notice that what was between the baby’s legs didn’t match with what Dante said.

“Where do you think the baby came out from?”

“…from you?”

“Be a little more specific.”

It was something Nero never thought about, because his primary interest wasn’t thinking about Dante’s genitalia. He just had a blurry vision of the baby appearing from a demonic circle of light on Dante’s belly, because they were part demons and some demonic shit had to play its role in it, right? Nero carefully run his eyes along Dante’s legs and looked where he expected to see a penis.

“I’m a bit… confused.”

“Mom told us she was as well, because dad kept telling her I would develop male-like characteristics... but…” Dante took a deep breath. “…we might talk about this later…”

Nero’s mind frantically elaborated everything. Dante was tired, with half of his body covered in blood –was he supposed to bleed like that?– and there was a long whitish cord attacked to the baby’s belly that definitely shouldn’t be there for Nero.

“What do I do?”

Nobody had prepared him for that. He knew that Dante was supposedly due for the end of the month and that Lady informed herself to help him giving birth (even if Dante didn’t want to and was forced to accept). Nero was supposed to stay there and do whatever someone told him to do, more or less like he was used to do when it came to chores in the house back in Fortuna, and this unexpected turn happened with the less appropriate person in the bunch.

“Nero, don’t worry. It’s easy. I don’t know what to do either.”

“Hah. That’s not reassuring.”

“I know, right?” Dante chuckled, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the edge of the bathtub. “We should probably cut the cord and clean.”

The first thing Nero wanted to blurt out was that he couldn’t possibly cut the cord. However, he had to. The baby was so tiny that he was amazed at how Dante kept him into his arms and made that gesture look so natural. Maybe Dante should cut the cord and leave to Nero the cleaning.

“Do you know I’ve never done this, don’t you?”

“And here I thought you helped nice ladies deliver their babies…” Dante smiled fondly at Nero’s glare. “I trust you, so it’s okay. We’ll do it together.”

Nero nodded, his mouth completely dry. “Yes, together.” In that moment, he missed Vergil like he had never done until that moment. He wanted him to be there.

“Nero?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry for the mess.”

Nero chortled. “Yes, I’m really mad at you for all this blood.”

***

Vergil smelt the blood right before entering the office. Hell made his senses sharper than Dante’s and Nero’s, and the bad omen of his brother’s blood made him jump to the most catastrophic assumptions when he was on the street, among countless humans he didn’t care about. He bumped into a woman as he dashed forward and ignored the yells coming at his back, because Dante was in trouble. Vergil feared it.

“Dante!”

He slammed the door open and didn’t even bother to close it as he tried to figure even the tiniest thread to follow among the pungent scent drenching the whole house. Vergil saw Nero at the top of the stairs, lured out by his yell. His clothes had some blood stains, he was sweating, but his face wasn’t tense.

“You’re back.” The black plastic bag Nero was holding stank of Dante’s guts, a scent Vergil knew well. Nero noticed the quick glance Vergil gave to the bag and hurried to add “Dante is fine. He is sleeping in your bedroom.”

Nero hesitated, and Vergil read it on his face. He didn’t notice immediately that Nero didn’t do anything to stop him to run past him, and it was a sign that he was telling the truth, Dante was fine. And yet, Vergil’s heart pounded to his ears in the silence of the room, and he just remained on the doorstep to contemplate the view in front of him as anxiety spread in his body like an infection. His brother was sleeping, curled on a side, giving his back to the room entrance; his shoulders followed the slow rhythm of his breath. Mr. Fluffle was watching over him from the end of the bed; he looked like he was sleeping, but he opened his eyes and gave Vergil a brief glance. Dante was fine.

The cradle had been moved. Vergil noticed it wasn’t in the corner of the room anymore, but nearby the bed; the blankets weren’t neatly folded anymore, instead, they had been spread over the mattress. His feet weighed now like lead, and putting one after the other to walk forward turned into an energy-eating activity which required all his attention not to falter. Vergil didn’t get too close to the cradle, he just peeked from far.

Empty.

In two steps, he was close enough to tend his arm and pull the blankets. Maybe the baby was under it. But there was no one.

“The baby’s sleeping with Dante.” Nero guessed his state of mind and guided him.

Vergil approached Dante. His hand hesitated, and he decided not to touch him, not yet. Dante didn’t notice his presence, that was the depth of his sleep. Towering above him like a beast protecting his nest, Vergil glanced at the weak defenseless creature in his arms. Resting on his back, the legs bent, the chubby hands clenched in tiny fists, the mouth slightly open. Their child.

Outside the room, Nero observed how Vergil slowly undressed himself of his cold shield and allowed his emotions to have the best of him. He leaned down against Dante, and Nero was sure that, as he put an arm around him, Vergil let out a sob of relief.

Nero made as little noise as possible when descending the stairs. He closed the front door and observed the black bag. Back then, he threw it in a corner of the bathroom before rubbing the blood away so that they could bathe the baby – he looked so happy in the clear warm water, almost as much as he was joyful to be in his mother’s arms. Dante was a mother. The thought made Nero chuckle, and he left the bag near the desk. It was filled with whatever lump of flesh was inside Dante’s belly, and it floated inside him together with the baby; the chunks looked like a sort of macabre buffet. His smile disappeared. He had no idea where to throw that junk without having demons lured in by its scent.

“Shit…” He was tired. During Dante’s quick shower, the baby was in the cradle, crying his lungs out because apparently he didn’t want to be left alone. Nero tried to calm him down with words, as he was utterly scared at the idea of holding him, but the cries continued until Dante finished and cradled him into his arms. He fell asleep like that, with his baby against the chest.

Oh well, Nero knew he was useless. The least he could do was cleaning the mess. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. His hand automatically went to the telephone, but Nero put it down. Last time he called, yesterday, he didn’t manage to get to Kyrie, because she wasn’t home. Right now, if he was to call, he was sure that he would just make her and Nico worry; he never called two days in a row.

Nero grabbed the bag again.

“Nero.”

He turned his head and met eyes with Vergil.

“…I have no idea where to put this.”

Vergil took the bag from his hands and kicked a little cube chest next to the shelf behind the desk. Nero noticed that, but never asked what it contained. It was empty, and Vergil trashed the bag there.

“I just thought there would be the chord and not a bunch of other things.” The bag was heavy, Vergil didn’t expect it. “I had this prepared to cancel any scent or trace.” He closed the little chest.

“It makes sense.”

“My bad I didn’t tell you. I had to be more cautious and talk about it before.”

“We’ve been busy lately.” Nero shrugged. “Things worked out well… Dante knew what to do.” He massaged the back of his head.

Vergil glanced at his dirty hands and clothes. “You should take a shower.”

“Yes. If I don’t, demons will hunt me instead.” He managed to let it sound like a joke. “Not that I’m not used to it.”

A shower was definitely a must. The metallic scent of blood lingered inside his nose, and Nero could barely smell anything else. Some cold water would clean him from the sweat and refresh his mind. Maybe, it would also relax the tight weight he felt climbing from the chest to his throat. He was nervous.

“Well, now– what’s wrong?” Nero believed that Vergil wanted to adjust his clothes, like he did sometimes. He had an obsession over being neat and tidy, opposite to Dante’s style, which was more carefree. “I don’t care if my t-shirt has wrinkles, I’m going to put it in the washing machine.”

Instead of stopping on his shoulders, to straighten the creases, Vergil’s hands went over to touch his back and head. Nero found himself into his father’s arms, and he froze.

“Sorry, Nero. I had to be there.”

“Uh, listen, I said it’s okay.” The pain in his throat became unbearable, Nero didn’t even manage to gulp it down. “I just didn’t…” He wanted to smack himself, because his breath was increasing and he couldn’t stop it. “…didn’t…” His voice broke, and Nero felt stupid for it. His eyes burnt. Tears rolled down his cheeks the moment he squeezed his eyes to hold them back. “I mean… Dante was…” Nero pressed his forehead against Vergil’s shoulder. “…dead. I thought he was dead.” His sobs made his words more pitiful. “Back then, I didn’t see him, but he came back!” He had a flash of Dante fighting Urizen. “But now I saw him covered in blood and he didn’t reply to me!” That image was painted under his eyelids.

Nero exploded in a desperate cry, his hands clawed Vergil’s shirt. He didn’t want his father to stop rubbing his head and holding his tight.

“He’s fine.”

“I thought he wouldn’t… talk to me anymore. I was so scared…”

If only he could stop his tears without feeling his ears pulsating in pain and his throat blocking his breath, Nero believed he would feel better. But he couldn’t, and he kept wetting Vergil’s shirt with his tears.

“I wasn’t here with him, sorry… dad.”

Nero was sure he felt Vergil’s body jerking in surprise.

Vergil tightened the hug. “It’s Dante we are talking about. Even if we were here, he would have locked himself in the bathroom and came out asking for a pizza.”

Nero huffed, but, due to the tears, it came out like a snort.

“I’m… glad you have chosen to stay here, Nero.” Vergil sighed. “I trust you.”

“…don’t… tell Dante I cried.”

Somehow, Vergil felt a gush of pride warming his stomach, being the one Nero showed his weakness to.

“I won’t. I promise you.”

***

The baby woke up about three hours later. Vergil and Nero, who silently vowed to themselves not to show any sign of anxiety related to the baby, of course, run upstairs to see what was wrong. Dante was awake, and the baby suffocated his cries against the left nipple.

“What happens?” Dante frowned at them both. “Is there anything to eat? I’m starving.”

He was pale and looked tired. However, Nero noticed that he looked better than when he found him in the bathtub, so he sighed in relief.

“I’ll prepare something.” Vergil went near the bed and sat to give a better look to the baby. His hair reminded him of a soft white cloud, and his skin was of a darker shade than theirs. In some book, he read that it was normal, and the color would change in few weeks. “Nero, do you want to take a look?”

Nero thought that Vergil talked as if he had just found an interesting animal at the zoo and wanted to show him. He slowly approached them, a bit unsure, as his mind tricked him into believing he was just meddling with their intimacy as a family.

“He is… wrinkly.” Nero pointed out. “Is it normal that he sucks with such energy?” The wet sounds of the baby sucking the milk were loud enough to be mistaken for slaps.

“I’m quite sure he might grow teeth in few days. He’s biting me and it hurts.”

Nero was about to ask how it was possible. Then he remembered he grew an arm back due to his demonic legacy and shut up. “By the way–” He casually pretended he didn’t know that the twins had been arguing for a while about what he was about to bring out. “–now that he is out in the world, what’s the name?”

“Not Sparda.” Dante’s quick reply cut any chance for Vergil to start his harangue on the matter. “I’m not calling our child after dad.”

“It’s not like what you proposed are good names either.” Vergil bickered him.

“Tony and Leon are great names. You just lack a decent taste.”

Nero slowly moved back. “I’m going to cook something.” Neither of them heard him, so he thought it was the right moment to let them argue on their own, since they wouldn’t even listen to him, and go prepare something for Dante.

The baby was cute. He thought his baby white hair would turn into a grayish shade when he would be older, a true pity. Despite having demonic blood, with his big baby blue eyes, he looked like a little chubby angel. Nero stopped beating the eggs, because he had to reflect on what he was feeling in that moment. He had now a little brother, someone who would probably receive love from his parents from a young age, which was something Nero couldn’t experience. As a matter of logic, he should have been jealous of him.

Nero poured the eggs into the hot pan. Somehow, all he could think about was that he had no idea on what kind of parents Dante and Vergil would be. They could face any dangerous situation, but sometimes struggled with the easiest human things – once Vergil asked him what the sense of hamburgers was, since it was minced meat pressed together again, and Nero spent one hour in bed wondering if he was right or not.

Would the baby be okay?

“I’m starving.” Deep in thoughts, Nero jerked as he heard Dante’s voice. “Scrambled eggs. Good.”

“Dante, I could bring you the plate.” Vergil was following his steps like an anxious parent.

“Vergil, if you want to help me…” Dante carefully handed the baby to Vergil. “…take him, here, like this.”

Nero was sure he’d never seen such a horrified look on Vergil’s face.

“Dante, you are being too quick, what if–”

“The head on your arm, make him lean his head against the chest, hold the body with the other arm… perfect. It’s not difficult.” Dante rubbed his hands together. “Now, are the eggs ready?”

It seemed a bit cruel leaving Vergil in the middle of the kitchen, rigid like a statue while holding a tiny creature staring at him. The little color he usually had on his face faded away and made space to the terror of doing anything wrong that couldn’t be undone. Vergil always lived his life never thinking much about the effective consequences of his actions on the others (like growing a tower or a tree), but now he was experiencing the looming weight of Newton’s third law: whatever he would do, it would create a reaction, and Vergil didn’t know if he was ready to accept whatever was outside his range of control.

Dante poured the eggs on his plate. “Vergil, you can sit down, if that makes you feel better.”

Vergil was looking at the wrinkly forehead of the baby becoming even wrinklier, like he was about to open his mouth and cry out loud his disappointment for being in someone’s arms who wasn’t his mother. Of course, had the baby cried, it would be only because he could sense Vergil’s anxious state of mind, but Vergil’s thoughts wandered in the wrong direction.

“If you don’t relax, the baby might feel it.” Nero tried. “…Kyrie once told me when I held Carlo. He cried.”

“It’s not that difficult.” Dante pointed out. “You just must make practice, that’s all.”

“And you practiced in the four hours you were sleeping?”

Dante smirked at Nero while pouring lots of ketchup on the scrambled eggs. “I took care of some babies when I started my activity.”

Vergil and Nero made the same shocked expression, with their eyebrows furrowed so much their eyes shrunk, and they looked like the same person but with some years of difference. “What?”

“Love Planet was moved when this neighborhood was redeveloped, but for some years, sometimes I took care of the babies of some girls working there.”

“What’s Love Planet?” Nero had a hunch it wasn’t a shop for children.

“A strip club.”

“What?”

Dante munched on the eggs and gulped them down before adding. “Where people strip and other people pays them to do so.”

“I know what a strip club is!” Nero blushed. “By the way, have you discussed about the name?” Despite he just wanted to steer the conversation elsewhere, it was true they couldn’t keep calling their child _the baby_ forever.

“Your father wants to call him Sparda and won’t step back from his decision.”

“I told you that I would gladly accept anything that wouldn’t be any of the stupid names you listed.”

“Vergil, you are a clown. Do you even hear yourself when speaking, or do you just blabber?”

Vergil, who usually would be ready to throw a sharp reply to Dante, found himself frozen to contain his annoyance in order to be able to hold his child. He didn’t feel natural having such a frail creature into his arms, and was afraid that the slightest mistake could hurt him.

“I think we’ll argue with you holding the baby from now on.” Dante smirked at him.

“Dante, you…” Vergil looked at Nero all of a sudden. He flinched. “Nero…” Even if Nero could easily escape, because Vergil walked ridiculously slowly to him, he just remained on the spot until he felt the weight of the baby into his arms. “…hold him. Dante.” He turned to his brother. “I’m afraid to inform you that the list of names you have written is so stupid that you have lowered the IQ of the entire town.”

“Hey, you’ve heard this in a movie! I saw it too!”

Nero couldn’t believe the conversation took such a turn. Maybe, he just had to punch them to make them reason again – if they had ever reasoned in their life, and Nero was highly doubting it. But he couldn’t, because it looked like that, together with the baby, Vergil passed onto him the rigid nervousness which stiffened his muscles.

“Huh?”

The baby emitted a weird sound, and Nero looked at him in terror. However, he looked just fine, throwing glances all around as if he was eager to understand the world around him. Nero was more or less sure normal human babies were less receptive when born, but he had never seen a baby right at his birth, so he wasn’t as shocked as probably he should be. His eyelashes were long, but so white that they almost seemed transparent. Nero noticed it when the baby finally seemed to realize he wasn’t anymore into Vergil’s arms and stared at him.

Somehow, Nero felt nervous.

“Hey look, Nero is better with children than you.”

All of a sudden, Nero felt himself cornered, with Dante and Vergil standing in front of him. They finished quarreling for the moment.

Vergil ignored Dante’s remark. “He likes Nero.”

“I noticed it before, but his hair is really white.” Dante massaged his chin.

“It seems like snow.” Nero agreed while his mind was working to find a way to pass the baby to one of the twins without sounding like an asshole.

“Dante, if you are going to propose to call our son snow–”

Vergil’s threat sounded real, but Dante shut him up. “Weiss is more appropriate. It means white.”

“You want to call him _white_?” Nero wasn’t convinced. “Just because of his hair? Then you’ll call him gray in like twenty years.” He was sure Dante had that solution up his sleeve the whole time.

“Your name means black and your hair aren’t exactly obsidian.” Dante didn’t expect Vergil and Nero’s puzzled looks. “Nero means black in Italian. Okay, let alone my stupid brother–” He didn’t mind Vergil’s glare. “–but I thought you might now its meaning.”

Nero couldn’t hide his embarrassment. “Well, no…”

“I thought you were named after the Roman emperor.” Vergil answered.

“And who would that be?”

Nero was so busy at being shocked at so many information, that he noticed at last Dante taking the baby from his arms. He definitely looked more at ease in handling him, he wasn’t scared to do the wrong thing and hurt him; Dante knew what to do.

“Weiss doesn’t sound that bad.”

It sounded quite weird, Nero thought, but Vergil, after a brief hesitation, nodded.

“Not bad at all.”

Nero massaged the back of his head, and he suddenly remembered what Dante told him. “What if he won’t grow male features like you said he will? Weiss sounds a male-like name.”

“All the Sparda bloodline develops human male features.” Vergil explained. “If you mean that he might be a she, I don’t see any problem. It’s up to Weiss, after all.”

“Very well.” Dante huffed. “I’m still hungry and I want something else to eat. One of you gotta look after the baby.”

All of a sudden, Vergil and Nero realized that slaying demons looked like an easier job than holding a baby in their arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More family drama in the next and last chapter.


	19. I'm home

Dante had to call everyone. And, even if _everyone_ was four people in total, he had to brace himself and defeat his lazy self which usually waited for other people to come at him. The perspective of being scolded by a choir of humans and a demon because he told nothing about his child gave him enough strength to call Lady, Trish, Patty and Morrison.

Lady believed he was kidding, so Dante hung on her. She managed to call again right after Dante was recovering from Patty’s shrieks which left a high-pitched whistle echoing inside his ear. Trish and Morrison reacted more decently, first asking how he and the baby were doing, then inquiring on when they could drop by to see him.

Maybe Dante was overthinking, but he believed Vergil carefully chose the clothes for Weiss to look as cute as possible. Among all the clothes they bought, he picked up the ones who fit him the most and didn’t sloppily fell on him like a sack; and he chose to dress him in blue. Weiss fell asleep right after Dante (because Vergil and Nero were still too afraid to make contact with him) dressed him. Two seconds later, Mr. Fluffle sat near the cradle, glanced up, and jumped on the edge with an elegant movement of his body. Dante looked at him sniffing the air around Weiss’ head before carefully stepping in and curling at his feet to silently watch over him.

“I’ll leave him on your care then.” Dante scratched behind his ears, sure that he would find the cat asleep.

But he was wrong.

Morrison used his car to fetch Trish, Lady and Patty. They arrived together late in the afternoon, announced by their voices before Morrison could make it to the doorbell. Nero opened the door the moment he pushed his index, but that didn’t surprise Morrison enough to shake him out of his usual composure.

“Hello, Nero. Good to see you.”

“Hi, Morrison.” Nero stepped aside before Lady and Patty trashed Morrison away to enter. Trish was the last one to follow; not the least interested, but she managed to contain her curiosity.

Each of them had a present. Nero remembered that once Kyrie dragged him to visit a woman who gave birth to a girl, and they gave her a nice dress. He was curious about what they bought and admitted to himself that, knowing the people involved, he couldn’t think that inside those boxes there were dresses and shoes.

“Where’s the baby?”

They closed the office for the day and moved the cradle downstairs. The previous day, after gobbling all the food he could, Dante fell asleep on the sofa and woke up when Weiss cried out loud it was time to feed him again. For some reason, his cycle of sleep and food was irregular, but he never slept for more than two hours straight; so, Dante slept between thirty minutes and two hours to wake up whenever the baby called for him. Few times he didn’t really want to eat, but just stare intensely at his mother until he closed his eyes again.

Foreseeing that of course Weiss would be the star of the day, Nero brought the cradle downstairs, so Dante could peacefully sleep as long as the baby didn’t need his milk.

Everyone surrounded the cradle like curious animals. Nero noticed that Vergil got a bit rigid, as if he didn’t want them to be all over Weiss like a human umbrella, but he resisted the temptation of making them notice that.

“Oh my god. He’s so cute.” Patty squeaked.

Lady nodded. “Can’t believe he has Dante and Vergil’s blood. So something good can come out from you as well.” She smirked at Vergil.

Trish was looking at Weiss at a distance. “Human babies look ugly anyway.” She commented with her arms crossed, silently making sure that she wouldn’t hold him in her arms. “By the way, where’s Dante?”

“Sleeping.” Vergil replied. “It was a hard night.”

“Trish.” Patty called her. “How could you say that? Babies are beautiful!” While she was trying to convince Trish that babies were cute, Morrison asked the baby’s name.

“Weiss.” Nero replied when Vergil waited a bit too much to answer.

“Weiss, a weird name… as expected from Dante.” Morrison took his hat off and tended a hand to caress Weiss’ head. However, Mr. Fluffle gently put a paw on his knuckles and pushed him back. “Oh, he has a guardian.” He chuckled. “It’s good. You never know how pets react.”

“He follows Weiss around.” Nero explained. “No matter if you are holding him or he is sleeping. He gets away only for food and litter stops.”

Mr. Fluffle, who was sleeping right before the guests arrived, was now fully awake and his eyes never left for a second the strangers in his house who were towering around the baby. Patty and Lady tried as well to touch Weiss, but Mr. Fluffle had the same reaction. When Lady tried again, this time he munched on her hand and meowed a low warning.

“Hey! He is a hound, not a cat.”

“That’s a first. He doesn’t do that with us.” Vergil’s voice was coated with a satisfied smirk, and Lady frowned at him: it seemed like witnessing two children on the verge of arguing over nothing.

“Oh, look.” Morrison interrupted them. “I guess the little boy is waking.”

Weiss was moving his tiny chubby hands and his legs. His eyes weren’t open yet, but his voice was cracking already in disturbed sobs.

“He literally ate thirty minutes ago.” Nero sighed. “What now?”

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but…” Morrison massaged his chin. “…from the smell, I guess he needs a new diaper.” He took a step back. “Yes, definitely the diaper.”

Nero looked at Vergil, hoping to find any support, but he read in his eyes his own same dismay. “…Dante changed him.” He excused himself.

“I don’t want any involvement in this. I’m gonna have a drink.” Trish elegantly walked to the kitchen.

“I think I’ll come with you.” Lady joined. “Or you’ll finish all the booze.”

Vergil thought he would let them discover first-hand that there was no more booze in the house.

Patty was the only one left, but she immediately raised both hands. “Don’t look at me. I have no idea how to do it, nor intention to learn.”

“Didn’t you say babies are beautiful?” Trish commented from the other room.

“Yes, when they are someone else’s.”

Vergil took Weiss from the cradle without Mr. Fluffle hissing at him, however, he turned into a statue of salt the moment he took him.

“Are you okay?” Patty tilted her head. “You don’t have to be so nervous. You’re doing pretty fine.” She thought of mocking him, but she was sure Vergil’s complexion turned into a paler shade.

Vergil was able to get upstairs without doing anything irreparable and went back ten minutes later. He carefully sat on the sofa, from where he didn’t move until Lady claimed she wanted to hold Weiss. For once, Vergil was more than happy to comply and let Lady and Patty watch over Weiss until he fell asleep again. Right in that moment, Mr. Fluffle sat in front of them and meowed until they didn’t put the baby back in the cradle.

“Quite bossy, that cat.” Trish observed the scene from the chair behind the desk.

“You are making it sound like a compliment.” Lady frowned at her.

“It was. By the way, you haven’t opened the presents yet.”

“We should wait for Dante.” Vergil commented. “After all–”

“Come on, just open them!” Patty hurried him. “I’ve gotta go back home soon because I have the fried chicken evening with mom!”

No one complained about Dante not being there, so Vergil just let his curiosity have the upper hand and opened the presents. A cute dress (“I was sure he was a girl.” Patty admitted), a soft little plushie that could be used as a pillow, a toy to hang on the cradle and a little sweater with an ugly design. Nero shut his thoughts about the ugliness of the gnome or elf on it and pretended everything was nice. Vergil’s face was impossible to read, but he thanked them all the same way.

They all left few minutes before Dante woke up. Trish and Lady had a job and Morrison had to talk with some people for more to come. Patty didn’t really want to leave; she would spend the entire evening staring at Weiss sleeping with his tiny hand holding onto Mr. Fluffle’s paw, but she cared about the time spent with her mother, and promised she would pass as soon as she could.

“I bet tomorrow she’ll be here again.” Nero commented. “What do you think of the sweater?”

“I like it.” Vergil pinched it from the shoulders and spread it to look at the drawing printed on it. “Don’t you think this demon is on point?”

Nero decided it was better not telling him that the demon wasn’t a demon. “…maybe, yeah.”

Dante was quiet enough to descend the stairs that none of them noticed him until he sat on the sofa with a grunt. His hair was messy and his eyes bleary from the lack of sleep.

“Did he wake up?” He asked with a coarse voice which seemed to arrive directly from the underworld.

“Just to greet our guests and have his diaper emptied.”

“Nice.” Dante didn’t look sad he missed his friends’ visit. “I feel like shit.” He groaned.

“You should rest some more.” Nero was putting all the presents back in their boxes, then realized that Dante might want to see them. “Hey, they brought some stuff for Weiss, so–”

Dante poked his head out. “Is there something for me?”

“No.”

He put the head back on the backseat. “I’ll take a look later then.” However, he wasn’t given any time to relax. From the cradle, Weiss was coughing out few sobs, and Dante dragged himself to him.

“Hungry again?” Vergil frowned.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Nero looked from afar Dante being delicate as he took Weiss from the cradle.

“Hey, he doesn’t want to eat. He’s not opening his mouth.” Dante pulled down his t-shirt. “But he’s calm now. Did you just want to stay with mommy a bit?” His chuckle was soft.

Vergil remained at his side and looked down at their son, gently poking his hand with the index. It was the first time Nero saw such a calm expression on his face; the usual tension wasn’t there to frown his eyebrows and forehead and tense his lips.

As silently as he could, Nero retreated into his room.

***

Kyrie didn’t come; she couldn’t leave Fortuna with such little warning. That’s what Nico, who flew in the van to the Devil May Cry the moment she heard the news, reported to Nero.

For some weird reason, out of all the humans, Nico might be the one Vergil liked the most. He didn’t have any problem with her ranting and babbling around the cradle about how beautiful Weiss was –more than his older brother, she joked– and was the only stranger that Mr. Fluffle didn’t pick up a fight with the moment she was too close during sleep time. She had a present with her and couldn’t keep still until Dante was finally back from a quick job Morrison brought in. so they could unwrap it together.

There was Trish too, who accompanied Dante in the mission to keep an eye on him, since sometimes he still felt tired. She frowned at the little mechanical arm. “Did you think the baby will need that?”

“That’s for when he turns like three or four. He can start from the basis.” Nico shrugged at Trish’ glance. “I figured everyone else might buy him clothes and diapers, so he better have something useful too.”

“Nico, he can’t even walk right now.” Nero reminded her. “Wouldn’t a toy be better?”

“I have one.” Nico slapped her forehead. “Damn, I forgot it in the van. Just let me check where I put it. It transforms like in five different things.”

Nero didn’t know about Dante and Vergil, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the baby nearby something Nico made. Not yet, at least. “Nico, wait.” He followed her. “There’s no need for that. He has plenty of toys already.”

The van inside was messier than Nero remembered. That confirmed his theory that it was Nico the one who couldn’t keep it tidy, wasting his efforts of not having chaos around them while working. Nico was in the corner where she set her little lab, throwing around pieces of metal.

“Damn, I was sure it was here.”

“You can look for it later. It’s almost lunch time.”

But Nico didn’t listen to him and replied something which sounded like a “Fuck off.”, so Nero let out a small “Tch.” and walked around to see if, beyond the mess, everything remained the same. The two posters he hung were still there, a bit wrinkled on the edges, but intact. For some reason, Nico didn’t get rid of the change of clothes Nero always used to keep in the van in case a job would get bloodier than expected. He wondered if it was Kyrie who asked her or Nico who didn’t want to touch it or just forgot about it.

“Oh hey!” At Nico’s shriek, Nero turned his head. “Isn’t that Lady?” She sounded way too excited.

“She comes here often now. Like everyone else. To see the baby.”

“What? Are you jealous?” Nico chuckled. “I’ll go say hi.”

“Have you found the toy?”

“I’ll look for it later! Or you can just look for it!”

Nero huffed. “I don’t even know its shape or what it’s supposed to do!” He followed her out of the van and slammed the door back. “Nico, the keys! Just close it already!” She threw the keys at him and entered the office. “Wow, well, thank you Nico.”

When he got inside, Trish was sitting on the sofa and giving a conceited look at Lady and Nico, who were squeaking a toy in the air to get Weiss’ attention.

“Did he wake up?” Some blabbers coming from the cradle told him that his little brother was awake.

“He awakened the moment you got out.” Dante said. “Damn, I hope Vergil is quick with lunch, I’m starving.”

“You ate pizza this morning.” Trish reminded him.

“That was just a snack.”

Nero snorted. “An entire pizza as a snack?”

“It’s not like I can’t use an entire pizza as a snack.”

“A snack is supposed to–nah, whatever… shouldn’t he eat?”

Dante shrugged. “It seems like he’s more interested in figuring out what the ladies are trying to pull off with that toy.”

Vergil came out from the kitchen. “You didn’t even try, Dante. Maybe he is hungry.”

“Our neighbors would know too if he is hungry. He cries so loud for being so little.”

“That toy is distracting him.”

“And that’s good. When the toy won’t be enough anymore, I’ll feed him. Now, please, how about you feed me?”

Vergil scoffed. “You had pizza already, apparently.”

“Oh come on! Trish, you ruined me!”

Lady and Nico were the right entertainment just for a few minutes. Before he could eat, Dante had to feed Weiss, unless they didn’t want his voice to shatter the windows.

“Wow, I thought you used a baby bottle.” Nico carefully observed Dante raising his t-shirt to feed the baby. However, Dante quite felt like a lab rat running in circle under her inspecting eyes. “Does your milk have demonic properties which make the baby, you know, more demonic or–woah! Hey, asshole!”

Nero grabbed her from one arm “How about we go look for that toy of yours?” and dragged her outside. “Geez, Nico, you can’t ask these things!”

“Why not? Dante isn’t a shy princess like you.” She snickered. “Are you embarrassed for him?”

“He’s just feeding the baby. Why do you have to ask such weird stuff?”

“It’s not weird. I mean, he is half demon, maybe his milk has some magic trick.”

“Why don’t you ask about his piss next?”

“That was the plan.” Nico almost slammed the door on Nero’s face. “You are so snarky. What happened? Your teenage rebellious phase stroke back?” She kicked a piece of metal on the floor. “Where the hell is that toy…?”

Nero smelt immediately the stink of smoke sticking into the van. It showed that Nico kept smoking in and no one (Nero) was there to open the windows to make the air a bit more breathable.

“I’m not snarky. You’ve been indiscreet. Who enters someone’s house, goes straight to the kid and then ask if their milk has some supernatural properties?”

“I did.” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Hey!” She yelled, and Nero startled. “The toy, right to your left! Don’t move, Nero, don’t–”

However, the moment Nero jolted, he put it into motion.

“Is it normal that it vibrates like this?” Nero knew that everything Nico created worked properly, until he used them to their breaking point; but everything Nico created was a weapon.

“Yeah. It stimulates the baby–”

The toy emitted a piercing hiss which triggered it to bounce all over the van. The sound was loud enough that it gave the impression it was the energy which made the object move. Fast, but not enough for Nero to not follow its movements, and he punched it silent and still on the ground before it could hit Nico’s nape.

“–reflexes. Great job macho man! You’ve broken it!”

“Nico, that’s not a baby’s toy! That’s barely a toy!”

Nico bent on the knees and scraped her head which not more than five seconds ago was at collision risk. “I probably shouldn’t have added that demon part, but you know, Weiss isn’t human.”

“But he’s a baby!” Nero shook his head. “Forget it. You can buy him a plushie or whatever. He has plenty of presents already.”

“Wow, if I didn’t know you, and I do, I’d say you are jealous.” Nico walked around him. “Do you want me to buy you a plushie?”

Nero gave her a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Let’s go back inside.”

Nico retaliated, but she wasn’t as gentle as he was.

“Hey Nico, are you planning to destroy my shoulder to build me a new one?”

“I forgot you are such a delicate flower.”

Both laughed, and Nero felt relieved. He got along with everyone, but with Nico it came more natural not being stressed about pushing his foot on the brake and control himself. He realized that his stress slowly melted away under the radiant energy of her sharp tongue after two days from her arrival, when it was time for Nico to go back home.

“I’ve been receiving more requests from devil hunters lately.” She excused herself with Dante. “It looks like some punk keeps giving my name away like those brats who write the numbers of their friends on the toilet stalls asking for blowjobs.”

“Then I’ll stop advertising for you for free.” Nero pointed at her. “How about you give me a part of the profits?”

“How about you pay me for all the breakers you broke?”

“Don’t get me started on who provided you with all the materials and working place.”

Nico raised both arms. “Touché. But my service cost more than yours.”

“Hey, what do you mean by that?”

Nico ignored him and spent her last ten minutes of bonus before she was officially late for her departure holding Weiss and talking to him. In only two days, she unlocked his talking skills, and Weiss, probably stimulated by an excessive number of words, started blabbering nonsense verses even when nobody was communicating with him. It seemed like having someone close was enough for him to talk, and Mr. Fluffle was constantly at his side if he wasn’t into someone else’s arms.

“Okay okay, no time for cries and tears, I know you all will miss me, especially you.” Nico tickled Weiss stomach. “Yes, little beautiful devil. You will miss aunt Nico, won’t you?”

“Aunt Nico?”

“Someone must bear the burden of being the beautiful aunt who brings nice present.”

“Oh, like the one who almost decapitated you.”

Vergil took Weiss from Nico’s arms before she left forgetting to leave the baby, and that made her take her leave. After she managed to snatch a handshake from Dante (she was all stiff but in awe) and even from Vergil, Nero accompanied her to the van.

“Be careful on the way back home, okay?”

“You know how I drive.”

Nero sighed. “That’s why I’m telling you to be careful. By the way, what did you want to show me? You had three days.”

“I finished it today, it’s an improved breaker.”

Spotting her new piece was easy, as Nico always hold a special attention for her creations: the counter in the back was almost free of any object but for few instruments and a shining new breaker. It didn’t seem different from the old ones, but Nero was sure it hid a special feature.

“What’s the trick of this?”

“Try it on the field.”

Nero gave her a _oh, really?_ look, and Nico shook her head.

“I guess I’ll discover it on my own then.”

“Make sure to tell me immediately what it does.” Nico stretched her arms.

“Wait, what? You don’t know–”

“By the way…” She didn’t let him finish. “Are you jealous of little Weiss?”

Nero stuttered. “J-jealous? What the hell are you saying?”

Nico huffed. “Hah, I knew it. Do you think he’s gonna take all of papa’s attention?”

“I don’t think that–”

“Yeah, you do.” She took out a cigarette and lighted it up. “I mean, it’s normal.” Nico smoked those words, and Nero coughed.

“Normal what?”

Nico rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you pretend to be this dumb or you really are this dumb. I think it’s the second, if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you.”

“I mean, Nero, you’ve found your family, right? And you love them. Then, all of a sudden, boom! You aren’t an only child anymore. Mama and papa have the little brother to take care of.”

“My mom isn’t–”

“Sh sh sh sh.” Nico pressed an index on his lips, but her timing was bad and shoved it into Nero’s mouth. She immediately cleaned it on his jacket, and Nero spat. “Bleah, that’s sick!”

“You are the one who put your index in my mouth!”

“By the way, let me finish. You are afraid mom and dad won’t love you anymore.”

“I’m not afraid!”

“And let me tell you, that’s bullshit. I mean, they wouldn’t take in a rascal like you if they didn’t tolerate you.” Nico puffed out a gray cloud. “But it’s normal that you are _jealous_.” She made sure to put emphasis on the last word and chuckled at Nero’s glare. “I mean, he is your brother. You two will fight a lot.”

“Nico–”

“Okay, time to leave.” Nico grabbed the breaker and threw it at Nero. “Those who accompany the passengers are pleased to get off before the door closes!”

Nero walked backwards. “I’m not jealous. I just… don’t know what to do with children.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico slammed the door in his face. “By the way…” She popped out from the window. “…I think you would make a good big brother. You know, you set the bad example Weiss shouldn’t follow.”

Nero pretended to try slapping her with the breaker. “Go, before you are late of another minute on your schedule.”

“Don’t piss your pants!”

The view of the van running away in the distance clenched Nero’s stomach a bit. He couldn’t deny he missed Kyrie, Nico and the kids. However, on the other hand, he wasn’t sure he would be able to go back right now without regretting it.

“Nero.” Vergil shook him out of his thoughts. Nero looked at the window and saw how he was still being clueless on how to hold his son without looking like a mannequin. “Come inside, Dante is making pop corns.”

“Pop corns?”

“He said there’s a movie he wants us to watch.”

Nero sighed. “If it’s another movie about martial arts, I’m going to quit.”

***

One month and a half passed. It was two days to Halloween, and Patty, one week before, raided the office to mold it according to the Jack-O’-Lantern atmosphere. Nero came back from a job and had to exit the office and read the sign to be sure he didn’t enter the wrong place. There was a skeleton hanging from the ceiling of his room, but he didn’t take it down. Halloween was a pagan festivity which called the demons on the human world, according to the Order, so he had never celebrated it. Nico was disappointed when she realized she couldn’t trick or treat, so Kyrie, to cheer her up, baked a pie.

Nero didn’t know if Dante and Vergil planned to go trick or treating. Deep inside, he wanted to, but on the surface he just let out his feelings of curiosity on how the town slowly transformed as if a pumpkin demon was extending his demonic presence to make it part of the demonic world. He didn’t know that something like pumpkin spice latte existed, and he liked the beverage so much he drank it almost every day.

In that span of time, Weiss grew more together with his appetite. Dante on his own couldn’t satisfy his hunger, and he realized it at his own expenses when, one day, Weiss kept sucking until his nipples hurt; at the next milk feed, he had less milk and Weiss cried out until he figured out how to prepare powder milk. Then, Dante decided it was time to introduce him to formula feeding, for the sake of his own body who couldn’t possibly provide all the nourishment Weiss now demanded.

Nero never gave Weiss his baby bottle until one night he heard his little voice blabbering.

Even if Nero went to bed earlier than Dante and Vergil, he stayed awake to read some comics. He didn’t know Dante liked reading them until they had to rearrange the positions of many objects to create space for Weiss’ things, and the comics ended up being lined up next to Vergil’s books on the shelf. Nero heard Dante and Vergil talking, the door of their room closing, and then he thought it was safer if he just put on his headphones for at least half an hour. Those thirty minutes turned into almost two hours, and Nero called it a night, aiming for a glass of water before sleeping.

He heard Weiss’ voice when he was going back to his bedroom. Nero ignored it until he noticed there was something weird. Usually, the moment Weiss made clear he was awake, either Dante or Vergil were immediately at his side; Vergil showed more how much he was apprehensive, Dante pretended he didn’t share his same feelings of worry that they could do something wrong, so checking quickly the child’s inputs was the best solution. Now, there was just silence.

Nero shrugged it off and crawled under the duvet. However, he kept hearing his brother’s voice chirping happily without anyone replying in the attempt of putting him back to sleep. Nero stood up and went in Dante and Vergil’s bedroom. The door creaked a little, but this didn’t stop Weiss from continuing his monologue.

Dante and Vergil were sleeping. Vergil had an arm sprawled on Dante, who was deeply curled in the duvet, as hiding from everyone and everything: they looked exhausted. Dante told him that Weiss had picked up bizarre sleeping habits, but he read it as him having different sleeping windows. Probably, his brother believed the night was a good time to stay awake, because his eyes were wide open and he looked busy talking to Mr. Fluffle. The cat, as always, was in the cradle; he opened his mouth in a large yawn which showed his pointy teeth.

“It’s time to sleep, you know?” The moment Nero muttered, Weiss turned his head and stared at him. “…wow, that’s a bit ominous. Come on, sleep.”

Of course, that didn’t work. Weiss kept his big blue eyes fixed on him. Then, all of a sudden, he exploded in loud screeches of happiness. Nero panicked and tried to calm him down, but no matter what he whispered, his voice only seemed to fuel Weiss. Without thinking much, Nero grabbed him from the cradle and went back to his room. Two seconds later, he heard some meows demanding him to open the door, and he did. Mr. Fluffle made his way to Nero’s bed and curled up; his eyes flashed in the darkness.

“I just wanted to sleep.”

So Dante and Vergil did. The only reason Nero brought away the source of all that noise (Weiss) was that he was the one who did less to take care of him: he didn’t change his diapers, but just prepared the milk when needed and washed his clothes when it was his turn. Probably, Dante and Vergil needed a break; having demon blood apparently didn’t save from the tiredness coming from parental duties.

“You aren’t hungry, are you?” Weiss chuckled and talked and talked. “No, you would be crying your heart out by now if you were.” Nero sat on his bed and felt the weight of the desire of sleeping taking his body. “How about we do this?”

He carefully leaned Weiss down and covered his legs with the duvet. It looked like Weiss had a lot to say, because he didn’t stop blabbering since when he started in his cradle.

“I wish I could understand what you are telling me, you know?” Nero leaned next to him. He hesitated, but put an arm next to him, in case Weiss decided to make a sudden movement and roll away. “I bet you are saying that now you are the baby of the family and that everyone must look at you.” He joked, however, Nero didn’t want his voice to sound so bitter. “It’s normal. You are little and all you can do is keep everyone awake, eat and fill your diaper.” He huffed.

The moment he stopped, Nero noticed Weiss was now silent. It looked like he was listening to him.

“Hah, am I stupid? You are too young to understand me. You probably are just puzzled because you hardly hear my voice. We don’t talk much.” But it seemed Weiss was seriously interested. “Maybe Nico is right. I’m jealous of a talking diaper.” No reply. “You aren’t talking much now, huh? It seems you don’t like me.”

Nero leaned his head on the pillow and felt something soft pressing on his head. “Wha–?” Mr. Fluffle decided the pillow was now his spot. “Hey, how did you get there? You have some nice stealth skills.” He adjusted his head in the little space left and stared back at his brother.

Weiss timidly let out some sounds with no sense whatsoever.

“Do you want to talk? I’m afraid I’m not a big talker. I could talk you about my job, which is probably what you will do when you grow up, since demons are attracted to our blood. Probably Dante and Vergil will teach you everything they know, including sword fight. Credo taught me, a little. All the rest was self-taught.” Nero frowned. “…sometimes I wish they found me when I was little. You will have everything I wanted. It’s not that fair.” He remained silent until Weiss babbled again. “You are lucky. You can have them all for yourself.”

Nero groaned as he stretched the other arm. “Whatever, it’s not like I can change what happened. And stop looking at me like that.” He gently scolded him. “We won’t even get along. I don’t think I can really like you without feeling jealous, and you will understand that soon.”

Nero poked the tip of his tiny nose and chuckled at how Weiss was confused.

“Now sleep. I’m tired.”

At some point, Nero closed his eyes and the sounds around him became more blurred. Mr. Fluffle was purring, and the gentle vibration on his head were a pleasant massage. Weiss wasn’t talking anymore, so he probably was asleep. Nero couldn’t tell. He wasn’t even sure if the door of his room was opening or it was just his imagination, but he was too tired to open his eyes and check by himself. However, he opened them when he felt a hand on his head, but couldn’t distinguish the shadow above him, because it was close enough to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“…mmh… Dante?”

Dante covered his shoulders. “You better sleep, Nero.”

Nero felt like that was a good idea, so he did.

“And you remain here?” Dante asked at Mr. Fluffle, who looked like he was melting on Nero’s pillow. The cat blinked once before lazily closing his eyes. “I take it as a yes.” He made sure that Weiss wasn’t sleeping in a weird position – but Nero wouldn’t feel his arm anymore the moment he woke up, because his brother was sprawled on it.

Waking up and finding that Weiss was gone was a first, and Dante didn’t like the sudden panic which clenched his chest. He imagined Weiss could be with Nero, but he still felt fear until he checked it himself.

He went in the kitchen to drink something fresh and dangled back with the glass almost filled to the brim. He didn’t expect Vergil to be right behind him, and some juice spilt on the floor.

“Damn, Vergil.” Dante glanced at the large drop of juice at his feet. “Help me clean this mess.”

Vergil walked to the fridge. “Let me drink first.”

They did everything in silence. Vergil took the rag, Dante cleaned the floor, then they went back in bed.

“Did you have a nightmare again?” Dante turned around and looked at Vergil’s back.

“I don’t have nightmares anymore.”

“Then I guess you have super intriguing dreams.”

It didn’t happen always, but it had been few weeks since Vergil sometimes had an agitated sleep and calmed down only if Dante held his hand. When Vergil woke up in cold sweat, Dante pretended to sleep or not to notice his distress.

“Bothersome, more than intriguing.”

Dante chuckled. “Did you go check Nero’s room? Weiss is sleeping like an angel in his bed.”

“I saw them.”

Dante knew that Vergil probably had his same reaction. Then he realized that he might have gone to the kitchen looking for him as well.

“When I was alone, I didn’t have all these thoughts.” Dante stretched his arms with a groan. “Like the right milk to buy, diapers which don’t irritate the skin… do you think Nero does drugs?”

Vergil turned around. “Do you think he does?” His voice betrayed his apprehension. “He is too old for the rebel phase, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know how much of a rebel phase he was allowed to have in the Order. He didn’t have a rebellious phase with us, yet.”

“He punched us.” Vergil reminded him.

“He punched me and beat your ass. After we wore ourselves out, but those are minor details.”

“Punching your uncle and father is quite rebellious.”

“Well, you grew a deadly tree. He had a point, Vergil.”

Vergil snorted as the discussion was taking a path he didn’t like. “Why you said drugs?”

“I don’t know. Lately Nero feels more distant and I hear many moms talking about drugs at the park.”

“That’s why I don’t want you to bring Weiss at the park.”

“It’s not like he can understand them complaining about their teenager children.” Dante massaged his forehead. “I don’t know, he might be jealous of Weiss.”

“…yes, he might. What do we do?”

“I have no idea. Mom grounded us when we argued, but Nero isn’t arguing with Weiss. They are sleeping together.”

Vergil remained in silence for a while, and Dante thought he fell asleep.

“Vergil?”

“I don’t think Nero does drugs.”

“I don’t either.”

“And he is strong.” Vergil remarked. “Strong enough to face me.”

“But not me, I’m the strongest.” Dante chuckled as Vergil tried to pinch his face. “What do you dream of?” He leaned his hand on his brother’s cheek and rubbed his thumb under his eye. He noticed Vergil’s eyes dashing away to avoid a longer contact.

“This house empty.”

There was no need to elaborate it further. Dante moved closer to him until their foreheads touched.

“We won’t lose anyone anymore.”

***

Vergil still couldn’t understand how Dante found relaxing growing plants. Once Lady joked that since he grew both a tower and a tree, Vergil should be the one with the green thumb. However, he really couldn’t get the gist of the efforts made just to see a plant thrive: if you just let any plant or flower grow from the concrete they would become a forest, but if he dared give a bit more water to the plants in the garden, they would die.

When Dante agreed to buy the house with the garden, Vergil had to foreshadow that he would pass from one plant in the office to an entire bush of roses, some vegetables and a cherry tree. That tree didn’t even give cherry, actually, but only pink flowers in spring for a very short period. Vergil still didn’t get it, how he didn’t get why the roses seemed to look ill if he was the one watering them.

“Mr. Fluffle!”

Urged by a small voice from the other side of the garden, Mr. Fluffle dashed between Vergil and the sprinkler to crawl under the bush of roses.

“Are you aware I will brush your fur later, right?” Mr. Fluffle didn’t like the comb, but Vergil wouldn’t let him in without cleaning his fur from leaves and dirt first.

“Mr. Fluffle!” Weiss almost threw himself into the bush. “You should bring me the ball!” He complained sprawling on the grass to look at the cat. “I’m not supposed to run after you!”

Mr. Fluffle started crawling away and Weiss jumped standing on his feet to run along and not lose sight of him. “I can’t get in the bush! It’s not fair!” He laughed as he run after Mr. Fluffle the moment he exited his hideout and sprinted around the garden.

The more Weiss grew, the more he resembled Dante. Dante always denied it, but Vergil saw in Weiss his little brother. His gestures, his actions, his words: he was a little Dante. He always wanted to play and, whenever someone didn’t, he complained until he fell asleep; he loved climbing trees and running around, he had to change daily because his clothes became dirty easily.

“Hey, I’m back!”

And last, but not least, there was the one thing which made him the spitting image of Dante.

Weiss stopped chasing Mr. Fluffle hearing Nero’s voice. He held his breath, and his red cheeks trembled a bit before he shouted aloud his name. “Nero!” Weiss run so fast he trampled in his feet and fell, but he immediately got back on his feet and jumped into Nero’s arms. “Nero, you’re back! Let’s go to the park! You promised me!”

Here he was, Vergil thought, always chasing after his big brother like Dante used to do when they were children. No matter how many times Vergil rejected him because he wanted some peace to read his books, Dante was always there, grumbling that he wanted to play swords: sometimes they ended up fighting, sometimes Dante curled next to him and slept.

“I know I did, that’s why I came back right after I finished my job.”

“Next time bring me with you! I’m strong! Today I opened the water bottle all by myself!”

Nero put him down. “You are four. You can only with daddy and mommy, you know that.”

Weiss sighed, but he didn’t complain anymore. “I’m going to take Mr. Fluffle’s leash! Sarah said she’s gonna bring along her kitten today!”

“Weiss, take off your shoes before entering the house.” Vergil reminded him. He gave up on trying to figure what he could do to the flowers except giving them water. “I hope Dante will be back soon. I’m fed up with these plants.”

Nero got closer. “They look fine by me. I thought he would come today. He said it would take two or three days more than expected.”

“Definitely some nest which took over more than it should have.” Vergil took the gloves off. “Don’t buy Weiss any ice cream. He ate one already today.”

“Wait, didn’t Dante tell us not to give him sweets because he had a stomachache last week?”

“You bought him pancakes yesterday.”

Nero shrugged. “Yeah, but I mean, he had a stomachache because he ate too many tomatoes. And now he is fine.”

“I know. But no ice creams.”

“I can’t deny him an ice cream if his friends buy one.”

Vergil thought about it. “A little one.”

Weiss came back with the leash. “Nero! I’m ready!” Mr. Fluffle was as excited as him at the perspective of a walk; he kept moving in circles around Nero, as to hurry him to get out together.

“Ready with those dirty clothes?” Vergil carried Weiss on a shoulder, ignoring his protests. “Let’s get changed.”

“But daddy! I’ll get dirty anyway!”

No matter how that discourse made sense, Vergil still had Weiss change his clothes. Then, he gave him a small rucksack with a bottle of water, a small first aid kit and a little wallet with some money.

“Leave the rucksack to Nero when you play, okay?”

“Yes!” Weiss threw his arms around Vergil’s neck. “See you later, daddy.” He kissed his cheek. “Come on, Mr. Fluffle!” Mr. Fluffle waited that the leash passed from Nero’s hand to Weiss’ then dashed outside together with the boy.

“Take care, Nero.”

“Yeah. Ah, dad, call me if you need something.”

“Sure.”

Vergil waited that they turned the corner before closing the door. Now he could enjoy some time alone with a book, sitting on the armchair, rocked by the freshness of the living room. However, he didn’t even finish the chapter that someone knocked at the door.

“Hey, Vergil.”

Dante was back.

“You stink.” Vergil wrinkled his nose at the dry demon blood on his brother’s clothes.

Lady waved a hand from the car to greet them before leaving with a roaring acceleration.

“It’s been five days, I missed you too Dante.” Dante recited. “I was so worried about you, because you said it was a two days job. Let me greet you properly instead of stating the obvious since you are back from exterminating a number of demon equal to the population of our city.”

“You could have taken a shower.”

“Lady was in a hurry.”

“Take off the boots or I will wash you with the hose.”

Dante grumbled, but complied. “I will bring today the clothes to the cleaner. After the shower.” He added when Vergil glanced at him. “Where are the children?”

“All three at the park.”

“By the way.” He was holding a bag and picked a package from inside. “For you.”

Vergil unwrapped it without missing any of Dante’s movements the moment he entered the house barefoot – he better not touch anything, as dirty as he was. Dante bought him a book.

“You said you wanted it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Vergil smirked. “I didn’t think you remembered such a trivial comment I made one month ago.”

Dante opened his arms. “I love to surprise you.”

“Like arriving right when I had some time for myself to relax.”

“Love you too, brother.”

Dante made a heart symbol with both indexes and thumbs, and turned around to go straight to the bathroom. He hated the pungent smell of old blood, moreover if it was stuck on his clothes and skin.

“Hey, Dante.”

“Yes?”

Vergil got close what he needed to give a quick kiss on Dante’s lips. “Welcome back.”

Dante smiled back at him. “I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone who followed this story until the end. I am already planning another long fiction (VerDan, set right after DMC 1), but it will take me some time. Meanwhile, don't forget to check my account regularly, because I will keep posting bottom!Dante one shots (VerDan and NeroDan).  
> In case anyone is interested in more silly contents, follow me on Twitter (Steangine).  
> By the way, Nero didn't do drugs.


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